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MAY  TREAT  MORRISON 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

ALEXANDER  F  MORRISON 


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CITATION   AND   EXAMINATION 

OF 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE 

Etc. 


-•-< 


CITATION  AND  EXAMINATION"' 

OF 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE 

EUSEBY  TREEN,  JOSEPH  CARNABY, 
AND  SILAS  GOUGH,  Clerk 

BEFORE   THE   WORSHIPFUL 

Sir  THOMAS  LUCY,  Knight 

TOUCHING    DEER-STEALING 
On  the  Nineteenth  Day  of  September,  in  the  Year  of  Grace,  1582 

NOW    FIRST    PUBLISHED   FROM    ORIGINAL    PAPERS 
TO  WHICH    IS   ADDED 

A  Conference  of  Master  Edmund  Spenser,  a  gentle- 
man  OF  NOTE,  WITH  THE    EaRL  OF   EsSEX    TOUCHING  THE 

STATE  OF  Ireland,  A.  D.  1595 

By   WALTER  SAVAGE    LANDOR 

S2Sitl)  an  Cntroiiurtion 
By  HAMILTON  WRIGHT   MABIE 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,  MEAD,  AND  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


University  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridgb. 


INTRODUCTION. 


T' 


HE  years  spent  at  Fiesole  were  not  only  the 
most   serene   and   peaceful,  but   the  most 
fruitful  of  the  long,  active,  and  turbulent  life  of 
Walter  Savage  Landor.     He  was  at  the  matu- 
rity of  his  power  ;  his  children  were  his  playfel- 
^      lows  ;  his  garden  was  his  playground.     Nestled 
^       amid  the  olives,  the  Villa  Gherardesca  was  in 

1  the  heart  of  some  of  the  most  charming  scenery 
in  the  Old  "World ;  one  looked  from  it  toward 
the  woods  of  Vallombrosa  and  the  Tuscan  hills. 

O  What  happier  lot  for  a  poet  than  that  he  should 
5  possess  "grapes,  figs,  and  a  nightingale,  —  all 
Q  at  your  service,"  as  Landor  wrote  Mrs.  Hare. 
^  That  the  charm  of  this  lovely  bit  of  Italy  might 
be  complete,  it  possessed  associations  which 
"*•  counted  for  more  to  the  imagination  than  all  the 
^      visible   beauty  which    surrounded   it :    "  Be   it 

2  known,  I  am  master  of  the  very  place  to  which 

3  the  greatest  genius  of  Italy,  or  the  Continent, 
"2  conducted  those  ladies  who  told  such  pleasant 
S       tales  in  the  warm  weather,  and  the  very  scene  of 

his  Ninfale."     It  is  not  surprising  that  in  this  en- 


43S5r; 


vi  Inlrodtution. 

chanting  atmosphere  he  wrote  some  of  the  finest 
prose  of  the  century,  —  a  prose  which  reveals 
the  highest  distinction  of  thought  and  style. 

At  Fiesole,  between  the  years  1829  and  1837, 
"  The  Citation  and  Examination  of  Wilham 
Shakspeare,"  "  Pericles  and  Aspasia,"  and 
"The  Pentameron  "  were  written.  There  is 
nothing  in  English  which  surpasses  these  three 
masterpieces  in  the  quality  of  pure  literature.  If 
there  is  any  prose  which  can  be  applied  as  a  test 
of  perfect  form,  as  Mr.  Arnold  proposed  to  ap- 
ply certain  pieces  of  verse,  it  is  to  be  found  in 
these  beautiful  creations.  In  the  "  Imaginary 
Conversations "  Landor  often  nods,  and  the 
reader  does  not  escape  the  contagion  of  his 
prosiness ;  in  dealing  with  abstractions,  with 
thought  detached  from  persons,  he  lacked  the 
faculty  of  co-ordination,  and  sometimes  strayed 
into  dreary  and  arid  places.  But  in  these 
three  works  Landor  was  complete  master  of  his 
materials  ;  his  imagination  shaped  and  colored 
them  with  a  subtile  sense  of  the  quality  of  each 
group  of  ideas  and  sentiments,  and  with  a  fault- 
less perception  of  the  symmetry  of  the  whole. 

"Pericles  and  Aspasia  "  is  a  beautiful  tran- 
scription of  Greek  life  in  its  most  imaginative, 
and  therefore  in  its  truest,  form  ;  "  The  Pen- 
tameron  "  is  a  ravishing  glimpse  of  the  Italy  of 
Petrarch  and  Boccaccio ;  and  "  The  Citation  and 


Introduction.  vii 

Examination  of  William  Shakspeare  "  is  a  verita- 
ble piece  of  the  old  time  in  the  English  country 
side.  Landor  often  betrays  the  limitation  of  his 
understanding  ;  but  in  these  noble  works  his 
imagination  got  the  better  of  his  tendency  to 
prose,  and  allying  itself  in  each  case  with  the 
spirit  of  the  material  upon  which  it  worked,  pro- 
duced these  transcriptions  of  life,  each  so  per- 
fect of  its  kind  and  all  so  different  that  we  are 
reminded  of  Shakspeare's  magical  illustration 
of  the  lavish  and  richly  colored  life  of  Egypt 
in  "  Antony  and  Cleopatra,"  and  of  the  large 
simplicity  and  massive  form  of  Roman  life  in 
"Julius  Caesar," 

In  "  The  Citation  and  Examination  of  William 
Shakspeare,"  Landor  was  dealing  with  an  inci- 
dent or  tradition  in  which  he  had  already,  in  an 
earlier  dialogue,  shown  his  interest,  and  with  a 
country  which  had  for  him  all  the  charm  of  boy- 
hood memories.  He  was  born  at  Warwick,  and 
his  recollections  of  the  country  are  peculiarly 
vivid.  Revisiting  the  place  of  his  birth  in  his 
seventy-eighth  year,  he  picked  up  two  mulber- 
ries, the  first  to  fall  on  the  gravelled  walk,  and 
remembered  that  he  was  repeating  an  act  of 
seventy  years  before  I  The  scenery  about  Strat- 
ford and  the  grounds  of  the  Charlecote  estate 
were  not  only  familiar  to  him,  but  haunted  his 
imagination  by  reason  of  their  associations  with 


viii  Introduction. 

the  greatest  of  English  poets.  The  deer-steal- 
ing incident  was  peculiarly  attractive,  because  it 
afforded  an  opportunity  of  contrasting  the  free 
and  audacious  spirit  of  a  boy  of  genius  with  the 
stupidities  of  conventional  respectability,  the 
pedantry  of  a  chaplain  who  has  views  of  his  own 
touching  Mistress  Anne  Hathaway,  and  the  rude 
ignorance  and  malice  of  the  country  jokels.  In 
beauty  of  phrase  and  harmony  of  diction  Landor 
rarely  fails  ;  in  construction  he  is  often  defective. 
In  ''The  Citation  and  Examination  of  William 
Shakspeare,"  however,  the  materials  are  com- 
bined with  unerring  instinct  for  proportion  and 
shading.  The  comment  attributed  to  Lamb, 
that  only  two  men  could  have  written  this  charm- 
ing bit  of  old  English  hfe,  —  the  man  who  did 
write  it,  or  he  on  whom  it  was  written,  —  was 
not  an  exaggeration  when  one  considers  the 
buoyancy  of  temper,  the  audacity  of  humor, 
the  imaginative  force  and  color  which  Landor 
put  into  this  charming  work.  It  is  true  that 
neither  Landor's  wit  nor  his  imagination  had 
the  lightness,  the  inimitable  touch  and  go  of 
Shakspeare ;  but  this  work  has  a  genuine 
Shakspearean  breadth  and  richness  of  charac- 
terization and   fancy. 

HAMILTON  WRIGHT  MABIE. 
FF.r.RUARV,  1S91. 


EDITOR'S    PREFACE. 


I 


T    was   an  ancestor  of   my    husband    who 
brought  out  the  famous  Shakspeare." 


These  words  were  really  spoken,  and  were 
repeated  in  conversation  as  most  ridiculous. 
Certainly  such  was  very  far  from  the  lady's 
intention ;  and  who  knows  to  what  extent 
they  are   true  ? 

The  frolic  of  Shakspeare  in  deer-stealing  was 
the  cause  of  his  Hegira ;  and  his  connection 
with  players  in  London  was  the  cause  of  his 
writing  plays.  Had  he  remained  in  his  native 
town,  his  ambition  had  never  been  excited  by 
the  applause  of  the  intellectual,  the  popular, 
and  the  powerful,  which,  after  all,  was  hardly 
sufficient  to  excite  it.  He  wrote  from  the 
same  motive  as  he  acted,  —  to  earn  his  daily 
bread.     He  felt  his  own  powers  ;  but  he  cared 


X  Edilor's  Preface. 

little  for  making  them  felt  by  others  more  than 
served  his  wants. 

The  malignant  may  doubt,  or  pretend  to 
doubt,  the  authenticity  of  the  Examination  here 
published.  Let  us,  who  are  not  malignant,  be 
cautious  of  adding  anything  to  the  noisome  mass 
of  incredulity  that  surrounds  us  ;  let  us  avoid 
the  crying  sin  of  our  age,  in  vvhich  the  "  Me- 
moirs of  a  Parish  Clerk,"  edited  as  they  were 
by  a  pious  and  learned  dignitary  of  the  Estab- 
lished Church,  are  questioned  in  regard  to  their 
genuineness  ;  and  even  the  privileges  of  Parlia- 
ment are  inadequate  to  cover  from  the  foulest 
imputation  —  the  imputation  of  having  exercised 
his  inventive  faculties — the  elegant  and  accom- 
plished editor  of  Eugene  Aram's  apprehension, 
trial,  and  defence. 

Indeed,  there  is  little  of  real  history,  except- 
ing in  romances.  Some  of  these  are  strictly 
true  to  nature  ;  while  histories  in  general  give  a 
di'^torted  view  of  her,  and  rarely  a  faithful  record 
either  of  momentous  or  of  common  events. 

Examinations  taken  from  the  mouth  are 
surely  the  most  trustworthy.  Whoever  doubts 
it  may  be  convinced   by  Ephraim  Barnett. 


Editor's  Preface.  xi 

The  Editor  is  confident  he  can  give  no  of- 
fence to  any  person  who  may  happen  to  bear 
the  name  of  Lucy.  The  family  of  Sir  Thomas 
became  extinct  nearly  half  a  century  ago,  and 
the  estates  descended  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  John 
Hammond,  of  Jesus  College,  in  Oxford,  a  re- 
spectable Welsh  curate,  between  whom  and 
him  there  existed  at  his  birth  eighteen  prior 
claimants.     He  took  the  name  of  Lucy. 

The  reader  will  form  to  himself,  from  this 
"  Examination  of  Shakspeare,"  more  favourable 
opinion  of  Sir  Thomas  than  is  left  upon  his  mind 
by  the  dramatist  in  the  character  of  Justice 
Shallow.  The  knight,  indeed,  is  here  exhibited 
in  all  his  pride  of  birth  and  station,  in  all  his 
pride  of  theologian  and  poet  ;  he  is  led  by  the 
nose,  while  he  believes  that  nobody  can  move 
him,  and  shows  some  other  weaknesses,  which 
the  least  attentive  observer  will  discover  ;  but 
he  is  not  without  a  little  kindness  at  the  bottom 
of  the  heart,  —  a  heart  too  contracted  to  hold 
much,  or  to  let  what  it  holds  ebuUiate  very 
freely.  But,  upon  the  whole,  we  neither  can 
utterly  hate  nor  utterly  despise  him.  Ungainly 
as  he  is.  — 

Clrcum  prcecordia  ludit. 


xii  Editor's  Preface. 

The  author  of  the  "  Imaginary  Conversa- 
tions "  seems,  in  his  "  Boccacio  and  Petrarca," 
to  have  taken  his  idea  of  Sir  Magnus  from  this 
manuscript.  He.  however,  has  adapted  that 
character  to  the  times  ;  and  in  Sir  Magnus  the 
coward  rises  to  the  courageous,  the  unskilful  in 
arms  becomes  the  skilful,  and  war  is  to  him  a 
teacher  of  humanity.  With  much  superstition, 
theology  never  molests  him  ;  scholarship  and 
poetry  are  no  affairs  of  his.  He  doubts  of  him- 
self and  others,  and  is  as  suspicious  in  his  igno- 
rance as  Sir  Thomas  is  confident. 

With  these  wide  diversities,  there  are  family 
features,  such  as  are  likely  to  display  themselves 
in  different  times  and  circumstances,  and  some 
so  generically  prevalent  as  never  to  lie  quite 
dormant  in  the  breed.  In  both  of  them  there  is 
parsimony,  there  is  arrogance,  there  is  contempt 
of  inferiors,  there  is  abject  awe  of  power,  there 
is  irresolution,  there  is  imbecility.  But  Sir 
Magnus  has  no  knowledge,  and  no  respect  for 
it.  Sir  Thomas  would  almost  go  thirty  miles, 
even  to  Oxford,  to  see  a  fine  specimen  of  it, 
although,  like  most  of  those  who  call  themselves 
the  godly,  he  entertains  the  most  undoubting 
belief  that  he  is  competent  to  correct  the  errors 
of  the  wisest  and  most  practised  theologian. 


EDITOR'S    APOLOGY. 


A  PART  only  of  the  many  deficiencies  which 
■^^  the  reader  will  discover  in  this  book  is 
attributable  to  the  Editor.  These,  however, 
it  is  his  duty  to  account  for,  and  he  will  do  it  as 
briefly  as  he  can. 

The  facsimiles  (as  printers'  boys  call  them, 
meaning  specimens)  of  the  handwriting  of  nearly 
all  the  persons  introduced,  might  perhaps  have 
been  procured  had  sufficient  time  been  allowed 
for  another  journey  into  Warwickshire.  That 
of  Shakspeare  is  known  already  in  the  signature 
to  his  will,  but  deformed  by  sickness  ;  that  of 
Sir  Thomas  Lucy  is  extant  at  the  bottom  of  a 
commitment  of  a  female  vagrant,  for  having  a 
sucking  child  in  her  arms  on  the  public  road  ; 
that  of  Silas  Gough  is  affixed  to  the  register  of 
births  and  marriages,  during  several  years,  in 
the  parishes  of  Hampton  Lucy  and  Charlecote, 
and  certifies  one  death,  —  Euseby  Treen's  ;  sur- 


XIV  Editor's  Apology. 

mised,  at  least,  to  be  his  by  the  letters  "  E.  T." 
cut  on  a  bench  seven  inches  thick,  under  an  old 
pollard-oak  outside  the  park  paling  of  Charle- 
cote,  toward  the  northeast.  For  this  discovery 
the  Editor  is  indebted  to  a  most  respectable, 
intelligent  farmer  in  the  adjoining  parish  of  Was- 
perton,  in  which  parish  Treen's  elder  brother 
lies  buried.  The  worthy  farmer  is  unwilling 
to  accept  the  large  portion  of  fame  justly  due 
to  him  for  the  services  he  has  thus  rendered  to 
literature  in  elucidating  the  history  of  Shaks- 
peare  and  his  times.  In  possession  of  another 
agricultural  gentleman  there  was  recently  a  very 
curious  piece  of  iron,  believed  by  many  cele- 
brated antiquaries  to  have  constituted  a  part  of 
a  knight's  breast-plate.  It  was  purchased  for 
two  hundred  pounds  by  the  trustees  of  the 
British  Museum,  among  whom,  the  reader  will 
be  grieved  to  hear,  it  produced  dissension  and 
coldness  ;  several  of  them  being  of  opinion  that 
it  was  merely  a  gorget,  while  others  were  in- 
clined to  the  belief  that  it  was  the  forepart  of  a 
horse-shoe.  The  Committee  of  Taste  and  the 
Heads  of  the  Archaeological  Society  were  con- 
sulted. These  learned,  dispassionate,  and  be- 
nevolent men  had  the  satisfaction  of  concili- 
ating the  parties  at  variance,  —  each  having 
yielded  somewhat  and   every  member  signing, 


Editor's  Apology.  xv 

and  affixing  his  seal  to  the  signature,  that,  if  in- 
deed it  be  the  forepart  of  a  horse-shoe,  it  Vv'as 
probably  Ismael's,  —  there  being  a  curved  in- 
dentation along  it,  resembling  the  first  letter  of 
his  name,  and  there  being  no  certainty  or  record 
that  he  died  in  France,  or  was  left  in  that 
country  by  Sir  Magnus. 

The  Editor  is  unable  to  render  adequate 
thanks  to  the  Rev.  Stephen  Turnover  for  the 
gratification  he  received  in  his  curious  library 
by  a  sight  of  Joseph  Carnaby's  name  at  full 
length,  in  red  ink,  coming  from  a  trumpet  in  the 
mouth  of  an  angel.  This  invaluable  document 
is  upon  an  engraving  in  a  frontispiece  to  the 
New^  Testament.  But  since  unhappily  he  could 
procure  no  signature  of  Hannah  Hathaway,  nor 
of  her  mother,  and  only  a  questionable  one  of 
Mr.  John  Shakspeare,  the  poet's  father,  —  there 
being  two,  in  two  very  different  hands,  —  both 
he  and  the  publisher  were  of  opinion  that  the 
graphical  part  of  the  volume  would  be  justly 
censured  as  extremely  incomplete,  and  that  what 
we  could  give  would  only  raise  inextinguishable 
regret  for  that  which  we  could  not.  On  this  re- 
flection all  have  been  omitted. 

The  Editor  is  unwilling  to  affix  any  mark  of 
disapprobation  on  the  very  clever  engraver  who 
undertook  the  sorrel  mare  ;  but  as  in  the  memo- 


xvi  Editor's  Apology. 

rable  words  of  that  ingenious  gentleman  from 
Ireland  whose  polished  and  elaborate  epigrams 
raised  him  justly  to  the  rank  of  prime  minister,  — 

"  White  was  not  so  very  white,"  — 

in  like  manner  it  appeared  to  nearly  all  the 
artists  he  consulted  that  the  sorrel  mare  was  not 
so  sorrel  in  print. 

There  is  another  and  a  graver  reason  why  the 
Editor  was  induced  to  reject  the  contribution  of 
his  friend  the  engraver  ;  and  this  is,  a  neglect 
of  the  late  improvements  in  his  art,  he  having, 
unadvisedly  or  thoughtlessly,  drawn  in  the  old- 
fashioned  manner  lines  at  the  two  sides  and  at 
the  top  and  bottom  of  his  print,  confining  it  to 
such  limits  as  paintings  are  confined  in  by  their 
frames.  Our  spirited  engravers,  it  is  well-known, 
disdain  this  thraldom,  and  not  only  give  un- 
bounded space  to  their  scenery,  but  also  melt 
their  figures  in  the  air,  —  so  advantageously, 
that,  for  the  most  part,  they  approach  the  con- 
dition of  cherubs.  This  is  the  true  aerial  per- 
spective, so  little  understood  heretofore.  Trees, 
castles,  rivers,  volcanoes,  oceans,  float  together 
in  absolute  vacancy  ;  the  solid  earth  is  repre- 
sented, what  we  knov/  it  actually  is,  buoyant  as 
a  bubble,  so  that  no  wonder  if  every  horse  is 
endued  with  all  the  privileges  of  Pegasus,  save 


Editor's  Apology.  xvii 

and  except  our  sorrel.  Malicious  carpers,  insen- 
sible or  invidious  of  England's  glory,  deny  her 
in  this  beautiful  practice  the  merit  of  invention, 
assigning  it  to  the  Chinese  in  their  tea-cups  and 
saucers;  but  if  not  absolutely  new  and  ours,  it 
must  be  acknowledged  that  we  have  greatly  im- 
proved and  extended  the  invention. 

Such  are  the  reasons  why  the  little  volume 
here  laid  before  the  public  is  defective  in  those 
decorations  which  the  exalted  state  of  literature 
demands.  Something  of  compensation  is  sup- 
plied by  a  Memorandum  of  Ephraim  Barnett, 
written  upon  the  inner  cover,  and  printed 
below. 

The  Editor,  it  will  be  perceived,  is  but  little 
practised  in  the  ways  of  literature  ;  much  less  is 
he  gifted  with  that  prophetic  spirit  which  can 
anticipate  the  judgment  of  the  public.  It  may 
be  that  he  is  too  idle  or  too  apathetic  to  think 
anxiously  or  much  about  the  matter  ;  and  yet  he 
has  been  amused,  in  his  earlier  days,  at  watch- 
ing the  first  appearance  of  such  few  books  as 
he  believed  to  be  the  production  of  some  power- 
ful intellect.  He  has  seen  people  slowly  rise 
up  to  them,  like  carp  in  a  pond  when  food  is 
thrown  into  it ;  some  of  which  carp  snatch  sud- 
denly at  a  morsel,  and  swallow  it ;  others  touch 
it  gently  with  their  barb,  pass  deliberately   by, 


xviii  Editor's  Apology. 

and  leave  it ;  others  wriggle  and  rub  against  it 
more  disdainfully  ;  others,  in  sober  truth,  know 
not  what  to  make  of  it,  swim  round  and  round 
it,  eye  it  on  the  sunny  side,  eye  it  on  the 
shady,  approach  it,  question  it,  shoulder  it,  flap 
it  with  the  tail,  turn  it  over,  look  askance  at  it, 
take  a  pea-shell  or  a  worm  instead  of  it,  and 
plunge  again  their  heads  into  the  comfortable 
mud.  After  some  seasons  the  same  food  will 
suit  their  stomachs  better. 


EXAMINATION, 

ETC.,    ETC. 


A  BOUT  one  hour  before  noontide  the  youth 
■^"^  William  Shakspeare,  accused  of  deer- 
stealing,  and  apprehended  for  that  offence,  was 
brought  into  the  great  hall  at  Charlecote, 
where,  having  made  his  obeisance,  it  was  most 
graciously  permitted  him  to  stand. 

The  worshipful  Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  Knight, 
seeing  him  right  opposite,  on  the  farther  side 
of  the  long  table,  and  fearing  no  disadvantage, 
did  frown  upon  him  with  great  dignity ;  then, 
deigning  ne'er  a  word  to  the  culprit,  turned  he 
his  face  toward  his  chaplain,  Sir  Silas  Gough, 
who  stood  beside  him,  and  said  unto  him  most 
courteously,  and  unlike  unto  one  who  in  his 
own  right  commandeth,  — 

"  Stand  out  of  the  way  !  What  are  those  two 
varlets  bringing  into  the  room  ?  " 


« 1      •    «o   t, 


2  'Examination  of 

"  The  table,  sir,"  replied  Master  Silas,  "  upon 
the  which  the  consumption  of  the  venison  was 
perpetrated." 

The  youth,  William  Shakspeare,  did  there- 
upon pray  and  beseech  his  lordship  most  fer- 
vently, in  this  guise  :  — 

"  Oh,  sir  1  do  not  let  him  turn  the  tables 
against  me,  who  am  only  a  simple  stripling, 
and  he  an  old  codger." 

But  Master  Silas  did  bite  his  nether  lip,  and 
did  cry  aloud, — 

"  Look  upon  those  deadly  spots  1 " 

And  his  worship  did  look  thereupon  most 
staidly,  and  did  say  in  the  ear  of  Master  Silas, 
but  in  such  wise  that  it  reached  even  unto  mine, 

"  Good  honest  chandlery,  methinks  1  " 

"  God  grant  it  may  turn  out  so  !  "  ejaculated 
Master  Silas. 

The  youth,  hearing  these  words,  said  unto 
him,  — 

"  I  fear,  Master  Silas,  gentry  like  you  often 
pray  God  to  grant  what  he  would  rather  not  ; 
and  now  and  then  what^^'ou  would  rather  not." 

Sir  Silas  was  wroth  at  this  rudeness  of  speech 
about  God  in  the  face  of  a  preacher,  and  said, 
reprovingly,  — 

"  Out  upon  thy  foul  mouth,  knave  I  upon 
which  lie  slaughter  and  venison." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc'  3 

Whereupon  did  William  Shakspeare  sit  mute 
awhile,  and  discomfited  ;  then  turning  toward 
Sir  Thomas,  and  looking  and  speaking  as  one 
submiss  and  contrite,  he  thus  appealed  unto 
him  :  — 

**  Worshipful  sir  I  were  there  any  signs  of 
venison  on  my  mouth,  Master  Silas  could  not 
for  his  life  cry  out  upon  it,  nor  help  kissing  it 
as  't  were  a  wench's/' 

Sir  Thomas  looked  upon  him  with  most  lordly 
gravity  and  wisdom,  and  said  unto  him,  in  a 
voice  that  might  have  come  from  the  bench  ; 

"Youth,  thou  speakest  irreverently;"  and 
then  unto  Master  Silas  :  "Silas!  to  the  busi- 
ness on  hand.  Taste  the  fat  upon  yon  boor's 
table,  which  the  constable  hath  brought  hither, 
good  Master  Silas !  And  declare  upon  oath, 
being  sworn  in  my  presence,  first,  whether  said 
fat  do  proceed  of  venison  ;  secondly,  whether 
said  venison   be  of  buck  or  doe." 

Whereupon  the  reverend  Sir  Silas  did  go  in- 
continently, and  did  bend  forward  his  head, 
shoulders,  and  body,  and  did  severally  taste 
four  white  solid  substances  upon  an  oaken 
board  ;  said  board  being  about  two  yards  long, 
and  one  yard  four  inches  wide,  —  found  in,  and 
brought  thither  from,  the  tenement  or  messuage 
of  Andrew  Haggit,  who  hath  absconded.     Of 


4  Examination  of 

these  four  white  solid  substances,  two  were 
somewhat  larger  than  a  groat,  and  thicker ;  one 
about  the  size  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth's  shil- 
ling, when  our  late  sovereign  lord  of  blessed 
memory  was  toward  the  lustiest ;  and  the  other, 
that  is  to  say  the  middlemost,  did  resemble  in 
some  sort,  a  mushroom,  not  over  fresh,  turned 
upward  on  its  stalk. 

*'  And  what  sayest  thou.  Master  Silas?"  quoth 
the  knight. 

In  reply  whereunto  Sir  Silas  thus  averred  :  — 

"  Venison  1  o'  my  conscience  ! 
Buck  I  or  burn  me  alive  ! 

The  three  splashes  in  the  circumference  are 
verily  and  indeed  venison;  buck,  moreover, — 
and  Charlecote  buck,  upon  my  oath  I  " 

Then  carefully  tasting  the  protuberance  in  the 
centre,  he  spat  it  out,  crying,  — 

'^  Pho !  pho !  villain!  villain!''  and  shaking 
his  fist  at  the  culprit. 

"Whereat  the  said  culprit  smiled  and  winked, 
and  said  off-hand,  — 

"  Save  thy  spittle,  Silas  !  It  would  supply  a 
gaudy  mess  to  the  hungriest  litter  ;  but  it  would 
turn  them  from  whelps  into  wolvets.  'T  is  pity 
to  throw  the  best  of  thee  away.  Nothing  comes 
out  of  thy  mouth  that  is  not  savoury  and  solid, 
bating  thy  wit,  thy  sermons,  and  thy  promises." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  5 

It  was  my  duty  to  write  down  the  very  words, 
irreverent  as  they  are,  being  so  commanded. 
More  of  the  like,  it  is  to  be  feared,  would  have 
ensued,  but  that  Sir  Thomas  did  check  him, 
saying,  shrewdly,  — 

"  Young  man  1  I  perceive  that  if  I  do  not  stop 
thee  in  thy  courses,  thy  name,  being  involved  in 
thy  company's,  may  one  day  or  other  reach 
across  the  county  ;  and  folks  may  handle  it  and 
turn  it  about,  as  it  deserveth,  from  Coleshill  to 
Nuneaton,  from  Bromwicham  to  Brownsover. 
And  who  knoweth  but  that,  years  after  thy 
death,  the  very  house  wherein  thou  wert  born 
may  be  pointed  at,  and  commented  on,  by  knots 
of  people,  gentle  and  simple  !  What  a  shame 
for  an  honest  man's  son  1  Thanks  to  me,  who 
consider  of  measures  to  prevent  it  !  Posterity 
shall  laud  and  glorify  me  for  plucking  thee  clean 
out  of  her  head,  and  for  picking  up  timely  a 
ticklish  skittle,  that  might  overthrow  with  it  a 
power  of  others  just  as  light.  I  will  rid  the 
hundred  of  thee,  with  God's  blessing  !  —  nay, 
the  whole  shire.  We  will  have  none  such  in 
our  county  ;  we  justices  are  agreed  upon  it,  and 
we  will  keep  our  word  now  and  forevermore. 
Woe  betide  any  that  resembles  thee  in  any  part 
of  him  I  " 

Whereunto  Sir  Silas  added,  — 


6  Examination  of 

"  We  will  dog  him,  and  worry  him,  and  haunt 
him,  and  bedevil  him  ;  and  if  ever  he  hear  a 
comfortable  word,  it  shall  be  in  a  language  very 
different  from  his  own." 

"  As  different  as  thine  is  from  a  Christian's," 
said  the  youth. 

"  Boy  I  thou  art  slow  of  apprehension,"  said 
Sir  Thomas,  with  much  gravity  ;  and  taking  up 
the  cue,  did  rejoin,  — 

"  Master  Silas  would  impress  upon  thy  ductile 
and  tender  mind  the  danger  of  evil  doing  ;  that 
we,  in  other  words  that  justice  is  resolved  to 
follow  him  up,  even  beyond  his  country,  where 
he  shall  hear  nothing  better  than  the  Italian  or 
the  Spanish,  or  the  black  language,  or  the  lan- 
guage of  Turk  or  Troubadour,  or  Tartar  or 
Mongol.  And,  forsooth,  for  this  gentle  and  in- 
direct reproof,  a  gentleman  in  priest's  orders  is 
told  by  a  stripling  that  he  lacketh  Christianity  I 
Who  then  shall  give  it  ?  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Who,  indeed  ?  when  the  founder  of  the  feast 
leaveth  an  invited  guest  so  empty  I  Yea,  sir, 
the  guest  was  invited,  and  the  board  was  spread. 
The  fruits  that  lay  upon  it  be  there  still,  and 
fresh  as  ever  ;  and  the  bread  of  life  in  those  ca- 
pacious canisters  is  unconsumed  and  unbroken." 


Willuim  Shakspeare,  etc.  7 

SIR  SILAS  (aside). 

"  The  knave  maketh  me  hungry  with  his  mis- 
chievous similitudes." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Thou  hast  aggravated  thy  offence,  Wil 
Shakspeare!  Irreverent  caitiff!  is  this  a  dis- 
course for  my  chaplain  and  clerk  ?  Can  he  or 
the  worthy  scribe  Ephraim  (his  worship  was 
pleased  to  call  me  worthy)  write  down  such 
words  as  those,  about  litter  and  wolvets,  for  the 
perusal  and  meditation  of  the  grand  jury  ?  If 
the  whole  corporation  of  Stratford  had  not 
unanimously  given  it  against  thee,  still  his  tongue 
would  catch  thee,  as  the  evet  catcheth  a  gnat. 
Know,  sirrah,  the  reverend  Sir  Silas,  albeit  ill 
appointed  for  riding,  and  not  over-fond  of  it, 
goeth  to  every  house  wherein  is  a  venison  feast 
for  thirty  miles  round.  Not  a  buck's  hoof  on 
any  stable-door  but  it  awakeneth  his  recollec- 
tions like  a  red  letter." 

This  wholesome  reproof  did  bring  the  youth 
back  again  to  his  right  senses  ;  and  then  said  he, 
with  contrition,  and  with  a  wisdom  beyond  his 
years,  and  little  to  be  expected  from  one  who 
had  spoken  just  before  so  unadvisedly  and 
rashly,  — 


8  Examination  of 

"  Well  do  I  know  it,  your  worship  I  And 
verily  do  I  believe  that  a  bone  of  one  being 
shovelled  among  the  soil  upon  his  coffin  would 
forthwith  quicken^  him.  Sooth  to  say,  there  is 
ne'er  a  buckhound  in  the  county  but  he  treateth 
him  as  a  godchild,  patting  him  on  the  head, 
soothing  his  velvety  ear  between  thumb  and  fore- 
finger, ejecting  tick  from  tenement,  calling  him 
'  fine  fellow,'  '  noble  lad,'  and  giving  him  his 
blessing,  as  one  dearer  to  him  than  a  kmg's  debt 
to  a  debtor,^  or  a  bastard  to  a  dad  of  eighty. 
This  is  the  only  kindness  I  ever  heard  of  Master 
Silas  toward  his  fellow-creatures.  Never  hold 
me  unjust.  Sir  Knight,  to  Master  Silas.  Could 
I  learn  other  good  of  him,  I  would  freely  say  it ; 
for  we  do  good  by  speaking  it,  and  none  is 
easier.  Even  bad  men  are  not  bad  men  while 
they  praise  the  just.  Their  first  step  backward 
is  more  troublesome  and  wrenching  to  them 
than  the  first  forward." 

"  In  God's  name,  where  did  he  gather  all 
this  ?"  whispered  his  worship  to  the  chaplain,  by 
whose  side  I  was  sitting.  "  Why,  he  talks  like 
a  man  of  forty-seven,  or  more  !  " 

1  Quicken,  bring  to  life. 

2  Debtors  were  often  let  out  of  prison  at  the  corona- 
tion of  a  new  king ;  but  creditors  never  paid  by  him. 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  9 

"I  doubt  his  sincerity,  sir  1  "  replied  the  chap- 
Iain.     "His  words  are  fairer  now  — " 

"  Devil  choke  him  for  them  I  "  interjected 
he,  with  an  undervoice. 

" — and  almost  book-worthy;  but  out  of 
place.  What  the  scurvy  cur  yelped  against  me, 
I  forgive  him  as  a  Christian.  Murrain  upon 
such  varlet  vermin  I  It  is  but  of  late  years 
that  dignities  have  come  to  be  reviled.  The 
other  parts  of  the  Gospel  were  broken  long 
before,  —  this  was  left  us  ;  and  now  this 
likewise  is  to  be  kicked  out  of  doors,  amid 
the  mutterings  of  such  mooncalves  as  him 
yonder." 

'•  Too  true,  Silas  I  "  said  the  knight,  sighing 
deeply.  "Things  are  not  as  they  were  in  our 
glorious  wars  of  York  and  Lancaster.  The 
knaves  were  thinned  then,  —  two  or  three  crops 
a  year  of  that  rank  squitch-grass  which  it  has 
become  the  fashion  of  late  to  call  the  people. 
There  was  some  difference  then  between  buff 
doublets  and  iron  mail,  and  the  rogues  felt  it. 
Well-a-day  I  we  must  bear  what  God  willeth, 
and  never  repine,  although  it  gives  a  man  the 
heart-ache.  We  are  bound  in  duty  to  keep 
these  things  for  the  closet,  and  to  tell  God  of 
them  only  when  we  call  upon  his  holy  name, 
and  have  him  quite  by  ourselves." 


lo  Examination  of 

Sir  Silas  looked  discontented  and  impatient, 
and  said,  snappishly,  — 

'*  Cast  we  off  here,  or  we  shall  be  at  fault. 
Start  him,  sir  !  —  prithee,  start  him." 

Again  his  worship.  Sir  Thomas,  did  look 
gravely  and  grandly,  and  taking  a  scrap  of 
paper  out  of  the  Holy  Book  then  lying  before 
him,  did  read  distinctly  these  words  :  — 

"  Providence  hath  sent  Master  Silas  back 
hither,  this  morning,  to  confound  thee  in  thy 
guilt."^ 

Again,  with  all  the  courage  and  composure  of 
an  innocent  man,  and   indeed  with  more  than  ■ 
what  an  innocent  man  ought  to  possess  in  the 
presence  of  a  magistrate,   the  youngster  said, 
pointing  toward  Master  Silas,  — 

"The  first  moment  he  ventureth  to  lift  up  his 
visage  from  the  table,  hath  Providence  marked 
him  miraculously.  I  have  heard  of  black  mal- 
ice. How  many  of  our  words  have  more  in 
them  than  we  think  of  I  Give  a  countryman  a 
plough  of  silver,  and  he  will  plough  with  it  all 
the  season,  and  never  know  its  substance.  T  is 
thus  with  our  daily  speech.  What  riches  lie  hid- 
den in  the  vulgar  tongue  of  the  poorest  and  most 
Ignorant  1  What  flowers  of  Paradise  lie  under 
our  feet,  with  their  beauties  and  parts  undistin- 
guished and  undiscerned,  from  having  been  daily 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  ii 

trodden  on  I  O.  sir,  look  you  I  —  but  let  me 
cover  my  eyes  !  Look  at  his  lips  I  Gracious 
Heaven  I  they  were  not  thus  when  he  entered. 
They  are  blacker  now  than  Harry  Tewe's  bull- 
bitch's  1  " 

Master  Silas  did  lift  up  his  eyes  in  astonish- 
ment and  wrath  ;  and  his  worship,  Sir  Thomas, 
did  open  his  wider  and  wider,  and  cried  by  fits 
and  starts :  — 

"  Gramercy  !  true  enough  I  nay,  afore  God, 
too  true  by  half  I  I  never  saw  the  like  I 
Who  would  believe  it  ?  I  wish  I  were  fairly 
rid  of  this  examination,  —  my  hands  washed 
clean  thereof  1  Another  time,  —  anon  1  We 
have  our  quarterly  sessions ;  we  are  many 
together.     At  present  I   remand  —  " 

And  now,  indeed,  unless  Sir  Silas  had  taken 
his  worship  by  the  sleeve,  he  would  may- 
hap have  remanded  the  lad.  But  Sir  Silas, 
still  holding  the  sleeve  and  shaking  it,  said, 
hurriedly,  — 

"  Let  me  entreat  your  worship  to  ponder. 
What  black  does  the  fellow  talk  of?  My  blood 
and  bile  rose  up  against  the  rogue  ;  but  surely 
I  did  not  turn  black  in  the  face,  or  in  the  mouth, 
as  the  fellow  calls  it  r " 

Whether  Master  Silas  had  some  suspicion  and 
inkling  of  the  cause  or  not,  he  rubbed  his  right 


12  Examination  of 

hand  along  his  face  and  lips,  and,  looking  upon 
it,  cried  aloud,  — 

"  Ho,  ho  !  is  it  oflf?  There  is  some  upon  my 
finger's  end,  I  find.  Now  I  have  it,  —  ay,  there 
it  is.  That  large  splash  upon  the  centre  of  the 
table  is  tallow,  by  my  salvation  1  The  profligates 
sat  up  until  the  candle  burned  out,  and  the  last 
of  it  ran  through  the  socket  upon  the  board. 
We  knew  it  before.  I  did  convey  into  my 
mouth  both  fat  and  smut  I  " 

"  Many  of  your  cloth  and  kidney  do  that, 
good  Master  Silas,  and  make  no  wry  faces  about 
it,"  quoth  the  youngster,  with  indiscreet  merri- 
ment, although  short  of  laughter,  as  became 
him  who  had  already  stepped  too  far  and 
reached  the  mire. 

To  save  paper  and  time,  I  shall  now,  for  the 
most  part,  write  only  what  they  all  said,  not 
saying  that  they  said  it,  and  just  copying  out 
in  my  clearest  hand  what  fell  respectively  from 
their  mouths. 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  I  did  indeed  spit  it  forth,  and  emunge  my 
lips,  as  who  should  not?" 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

''  Would  it  were  so  1  " 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  13 

SIR   SILAS. 

*'  Would  it  were  so  !  in  thy  teeth,  hypocrite  1  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  And,  truly,  I  likewise  do  incline  to  hope  and 
credit  it,  as  thus  paraphrased  and  expounded." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Wait  until  this  blessed  day  next  year,  sir, 
at  the  same  hour.  You  shall  see  it  forth  again 
at  its  due  season  ;  it  would  be  no  miracle  if  it 
lasted.  Spittle  may^  cure  sore  eyes,  but  not 
blasted  mouths  and  scald   consciences." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Why  !  who  taught  thee  all  this  ?  " 

Then  turned  he  leisurely  toward  Sir  Silas,  and 
placing  his  hand  outspreaden  upon  the  arm  of 
the  chaplain,  said  unto  him  in  a  low,  judicial, 
hollow  voice,  — 

"Every  word  true  and  solemn!  I  have 
heard  less  wise  saws  from  between  black, 
covers." 

Sir  Silas  was  indignant  at  this  under-rating, 
as  he  appeared  to  think  it,  of  the  church  and  its 
ministry,  and  answered  impatiently,  with  Chris- 
tian freedom,  — 


14  Examination  of 

"  Your  worship  surely  will  not  listen  to  this 
wild  wizard  in  his  brothel-pulpit  I  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Do  I  live  to  hear  Charlecote  Hall  called 
a  brothel-pulpit  ?  Alas,  then,  I  have  lived  too 
long  !  " 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  We  will  try  to  amend  that  for  thee." 
William  seemed  not  to  hear  him,  loudly  as  he 
spake  and  pointedly   unto   the  youngster,  who 
wiped  his  eyes,   crying, — 

"  Commit  me,  sir  1  in  mercy  commit  me  ! 
Master  Ephraim  I  Oh,  Master  Ephraim  !  A 
guiltless  man  may  feel  all  the  pangs  of  the 
guilty  !  Is  it  you  who  are  to  make  out  the 
commitment  ?  Dispatch  !  dispatch.  I  am  a- 
weary  of  my  life.  If  I  dared  to  lie,  I  would 
plead  guilty." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Heyday  I  No  wonder,  Master  Ephraim, 
thy  entrails  are  moved  and  wamble.  Dost 
weep,  lad  ?  Nay,  nay  ;  thou  bearest  up  bravely. 
Silas,  I  now  find,  although  the  example  come 
before  me  from  humble  life,  that  what  my 
mother  said  was  true  —  't  was  upon  my  father's 
demise  —  'In  great  grief  there  are  few  tears.'  " 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  15 

Upon  which  did  the  youth,  Willy  Shakspeare, 
jog  himself  by  the  memory,  and  repeat  these 
short  verses,  not  wide  from  the  same  purport: 

"  There  are,  alas,  some  depths  of  woe 
Too  vast  for  tears  to  overflow." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*'  Let  those  who  are  sadly  vexed  in  spirit 
mind  that  notion,  whoever  indited  it,  and  be 
men.  I  always  was ;  but  some  little  griefs  have 
pinched  me  woundily." 

Master  Silas  grew  impatient,  for  he  had  rid- 
den hard  that  morning,  and  had  no  cushion  up- 
on his  seat,  as  Sir  Thomas  had.  I  have  seen  in 
my  time  that  he  who  is  seated  on  beech-wood 
hath  very  different  thoughts  and  moralities  from 
him  who  is  seated  on  goose-feathers  under  doe- 
skin. But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there,  albeit, 
an'  I  die,  as  I  must,  my  heirs,  Judith  and  her 
boy  Elijah,  may  note  it. 

Master  Silas,  as  above,  looked  sourishly,  and 
cried  aloud,  — 

'*  The  witnesses  I  the  witnesses  1  testimony  ! 
testimony  I  We  shall  now  see  whose  black 
goes  deepest.  There  is  a  fork  to  be  had  that 
can  hold  the  slipperiest  eel,  and  a  finger  that 
can  strip  the  slimiest.  I  cry  your  worship  to 
the  witnesses." 


1 6  Examination  of 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"Ay,  indeed,  we  are  losing  the  day;  it 
wastes  toward  noon,  and  nothing  done.  Call 
the  witnesses.  How  are  they  called  by  name  .> 
Give  me  the  paper." 

The  paper  being  forthwith  delivered  into  his 
worship's  hand  by  the  learned  clerk,  his  wor- 
ship did  read  aloud  the  name  of  Euseby  Treen. 
Whereupon  did  Euseby  Treen  come  forth 
through  the  great  hall-door  which  was  ajar,  and 
answer  most  audibly,  — 

'*  Your  worship  !  " 

Straightway  did  Sir  Thomas  read  aloud,  in 
like  form  and  manner,  the  name  of  Joseph 
Carnaby ;  and  in  like  manner  as  aforesaid  did 
Joseph  Carnaby  make  answer  and  say,  — 

"  Your  worship  I  " 

Lastly  did  Sir  Thomas  turn  the  light  of  his 
countenance  on  William  Shakspeare,  saying,  — 

"Thou  seest  these  good  men  deponents 
against  thee,  William  Shakspeare." 

And  then  did  Sir  Thomas  pause.  And  pend- 
ing this  pause  did  William  Shakspeare  look 
steadfastly  in  the  faces  of  both  ;  and  stroking 
down  his  own  with  the  hollow  of  his  hand 
from  the  jaw-bone  to  the  chin-point,  said  unto 
his  honour,  — 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  17 

"  Faith  I  it  would  give  me  much  pleasure, 
and  the  neighbourhood  much  vantage,  to  see 
these  two  fellows  good  men,  Joseph  Carnaby 
and  Euseby  Treen  1  Why  I  your  worship  1 
they  know  every  hare's  form  in  Luddington- 
field  better  than  their  own  beds,  and  as  well 
pretty  nigh  as  any  wench's  in  the  parish." 

Then  turned  he  with  jocular  scoff  unto 
Joseph  Carnaby,  thus  accosting  him,  whom  his 
shirt,  being  made  stiflfer  than  usual  for  the  occa- 
sion, rubbed  and  frayed, — 

"  Ay,  Joseph  1  smoothen  and  soothe  thy 
collar-piece  again  and  again  I  Hark  ye  I  I  know 
what  smock  that  was  knavishly  cut  from." 

Master  Silas  rose  up  in  high  choler,  and  said 
unto  Sir  Thomas,  — 

"Sir!  do  not  listen  to  that  lewd  reviler ;  I 
wager  ten  groats  I  prove  him  to  be  wrong  in 
his  scent.  Joseph  Carnaby  is  righteous  and 
discreet." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

''By  daylight  and  before  the  parson.  Bears 
and  boars  are  tame  creatures,  and  discreet,  in 
the  sunshine  and  after  dinner." 

EUSEBY   TREEN. 

"I  do  know  his  down-goings  and  up- 
risings." 


1 8  Examination  of 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"The  man  and  his  wife  are  one,  saith  holy 
Scripture." 

EUSEBY   TREEN. 

"  A  sober-paced  and  rigid  man,  if  such  there 
be.     Few  keep  Lent  like  unto  him." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  warrant  him,  both  lent  and  stolen." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Peace  and  silence  1  Now,  Joseph  Car- 
naby,  do  thou  depose  on  particulars." 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"  May  it  please  your  worship  1  I  was  return- 
ing from  Hampton  upon  Allhallowmas  eve,  be- 
tween the  hours  of  ten  and  eleven  at  night,  in 
company  with  Master  Euseby  Treen  ;  and  when 
we  came  to  the  bottom  of  Mickle  Meadow,  we 
heard  several  men  in  discourse.  I  plucked 
Euseby  Treen  by  the  doublet,  and  whispered 
in  his  ear,  *  Euseby  !  Euseby  I  let  us  slink  along 
in  the  shadow  of  the  elms  and  willows.'  " 

EUSEBY   TREEN. 

"  Willoivs  and  elin-lrees  were  the  words." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  19 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"See,  your  worship!  what  discordances  I 
They  cannot  agree  in  their  own  story." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  The  same  thing,  the  same  thing,  in  the 
main." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  By  less  differences  than  this  estates  have 
been  lost,  hearts  broken,  and  England,  our 
country,  filled  with  homeless,  helpless,  desti- 
tute orphans.     I  protest  against  it. " 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Protest,  indeed  !  He  talks  as  if  he  were 
a  member  of  the  House  of  Lords.  They  alone 
can  protest." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Your  attorney  may  object,  not  prolest,  be- 
fore the  lord  judge. 

"  Proceed  you,  Joseph  Carnaby." 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"  In  the  shadow  of  the  willows  and  elm-trees, 
then —  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  No  hints,  no  conspiracies  !  Keep  to  your 
own  story,  man,  and  do  not  borrow  his." 


20  Examination  of 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  I  overrule  the  objection.  Nothing  can  be 
more  futile  and  frivolous." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  So  learned  a  magistrate  as  your  worship  will 
surely  do  me  justice  by  hearing  me  attentively. 
I  am  young ;  nevertheless,  having  more  than 
one  year  written  in  the  office  of  an  attorney,  and 
having  heard  and  listened  to  many  discourses 
and  questions  on  law,  I  cannot  but  remember 
the  heavy  fine  inflicted  on  a  gentleman  of  this 
county  who  committed  a  poor  man  to  prison  for 
being  in  possession  of  a  hare,  it  being  proved 
that  the  hare  was  in  his  possession,  and  not  he 
in  the  hare's." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Synonymous  term  !  synonymous  term  !  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  In  what  term  sayest  thou  was  it  ?  I  do  not 
remember  the  case." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Mere  quibble  !  mere  equivocation  !  Jesuiti- 
cal !  Jesuitical  1  " 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  21 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

♦'  It  would  be  Jesuitical,  Sir  Silas,  if  it 
dragged  the  law  by  its  perversions  to  the  side  of 
oppression  and  cruelty.  The  order  of  Jesuits, 
I  fear,  is  as  numerous  as  its  tenets  are  lax  and 
comprehensive.  I  am  sorry  to  see  their  frocks 
flounced  with  English  serge." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  I  don't  understand  thee,  viper  !  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Cease  thou.  Will  Shakspeare  !  Know  thy 
place.  And  do  thou,  Joseph  Carnaby,  take  up 
again  the  thread  of  thy  testimony." 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"  We  were  still  at  some  distance  from  the 
party,  when  on  a  sudden  Euseby  hung  an  —  "  ^ 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  As  well  write  drew  back,  Master  Ephraim 
and  Master  Silas  !    Be  circumspecter  in  speech, 

1  The  word  here  omitted  is  quite  illegible.  It  ap- 
pears to  have  some  reference  to  the  language  of  the  High- 
landers. That  it  was  rough  and  outlandish  is  apparent 
from  the  reprimand  of  Sir  Thomas. 


22  Examination  of 

Master  Joseph  Carnaby  I  I  did  not  look  for 
such  rude  phrases  from  that  starch-warehouse 
under  thy  chin.     Continue,  man  I  " 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

*'  '  Euseby,'  said  I  in  his  ear,  '  what  ails  thee, 
Euseby .''  "  '  I  wag  no  farther,'  quoth  he.  '  What 
a  number  of  names  and  voices  ! '  " 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Dreadful  gang  1  a  number  of  names  and 
voices  !  Had  it  been  any  other  day  in  the  year 
but  AUhallowmas  eve  I  To  steal  a  buck  upon 
such  a  day  1  "Well  !  God  may  pardon  even  that. 
Go  on,  go  on.  But  the  laws  of  our  country 
must  have  their  satisfaction  and  atonement. 
Were  it  upon  any  other  day  in  the  calendar  less 
holy,  the  buck  were  nothing,  or  next  to  noth- 
ing, saving  the  law  and  our  conscience  and  our 
good  report.  Yet  we,  her  Majesty's  justices, 
must  stand  in  the  gap,  body  and  soul,  against 
evil-doers.  Now  do  thou,  in  furtherance  of 
this  business,  give  thine  aid  unto  us,  Joseph 
Carnaby  1  —  remembering  that  mine  eye  from 
this  judgment-seat,  and  her  Majesty's  bright 
and  glorious  one  overlooking  the  whole  realm, 
and  the  broader  of  God  above,  are  upon 
thee." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  23 

Carnaby  did  quail  a  matter  at  these  words 
about  the  judgment-seat  and  the  broad  eye, 
aptly  and  gravely  delivered  by  him  moreover 
who  hath  to  administer  truth  and  righteousness 
in  our  ancient  and  venerable  laws,  and  espe- 
cially, at  the  present  juncture,  in  those  against 
park-breaking  and  deer-stealing.  But  finally, 
nought  discomfited,  and  putting  his  hand  val- 
iantly atwixt  hip  and  midriff,  so  that  his  elbow 
well-nigh  touched  the  taller  pen  in  the  ink-pot, 
he  went  on. 

JOSEPH   CARNABY. 

*' '  In  the  shadow  of  the  ivilloips  and  elm-trees,^ 
said  he,  '  and  get  nearer.'  We  were  still  at  some 
distance,  maybe  a  score  of  furlongs,  from  the 
party  —  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

'*  Thou   hast   said   it  already  —  all   save  the 

score  of  furlongs." 

"  Hast  room  for  them.  Master  Silas  ?  " 

"  Yea,"   quoth    Master   Silas,    "  and   would 

make  room  for  fifty,  to  let  the  fellow  swing  at 

his  ease." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*'  Hast  room.  Master  Ephraim  ?  " 
"  'T  is  done,  most  worshipful  !  "  said  I.    The 
learned  knight  did  not  recollect  that  I  could  put 


24  Examination  of 

fifty  furlongs  in  a  needle's  eye,  give  me  pen 
fine  enough. 

But  far  be  it  from  me  to  vaunt  of  my  penman- 
ship, although  there  be  those  who  do  malign  it, 
even  in  my  own  township  and  parish  ;  yet  they 
never  have  unperched  me  from  my  calling,  and 
have  had  hard  work  to  take  an  idle  wench  or 
two  from  under  me  on  Saturday  nights. 

I  memorize  thus  much,  not  out  of  any  malice 
or  any  soreness  about  me,  but  that  those  of 
my  kindred  into  whose  hands  it  please  God  these 
papers  do  fall  hereafter,  may  bear  up  stoutly  in 
such  straits  ;  and  if  they  be  good  at  the  cudgel, 
that  they,  looking  first  at  their  man,  do  give  it 
him  heartily  and  unsparingly,  keeping  within 
law. 

Sir  Thomas,  having  overlooked  what  we  had 
written,  and  meditated  a  while  thereupon,  said 
unto  Joseph,  — 

"  It  appeareth  by  thy  testimony  that  there 
was  a  huge  and  desperate  gang  of  them  afoot. 
Revengeful  dogs !  it  is  difficult  to  deal  with 
them.  The  laws  forbid  precipitancy  and  vio- 
lence. A  dozen  or  two  may  return  and  harm 
me  ;  not  me,  indeed,  but  my  tenants  and  ser- 
vants. I  would  fain  act  with  prudence,  and 
like  unto  him  who  looketh  abroad.  He  must 
tie  his  shoe  tightly  who  passeth  through  mire  ; 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  25 

he  must  step  softly  who  steppeth  over  stones  ; 
he  must  walk  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  (which, 
without  a  brag,  I  do  at  this  present  feel  upon 
me),  who  hopeth  to  reach  the  end  of  the 
straightest  road  in  safety." 

SIR  SILAS. 

"Tut,  tut!  your  worship!  Her  Majesty's 
deputy  hath  matchlocks  and  halters  at  a  knight's 
disposal,  or  the  world  were  topsyturvy  indeed." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

•'  My  mental  ejaculations,  and  an  influx  of 
grace  thereupon,  have  shaken  and  washed  from 
my  brain  all  thy  last  words,  good  Joseph ! 
Thy  companion  here,  Euseby  Treen,  said  unto 
thee  —  ay  —  " 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"Said  unto  me,  'What  a  number  of  names 
and  voices  1  And  there  be  but  three  living  men 
in  all !  And  look  again  1  Christ  deliver  us  !  all 
the  shadows  save  one  go  leftward  ;  that  one 
lieth  right  upon  the  river.  It  seemeth  a  big, 
squat  monster,  shaking  a  little,  as  one  ready 
to  spring  upon  its  prey  ! '  " 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  A  dead  man  in  his  last  agonies,  no  doubt  1 
Your  deer-stealer  doth  boggle  at  nothing.     He 


26  Examination  of 

hath  alway  the  knife  in  doublet  and  the  devil 
at  elbow. 

"  I  wot  not  of  any  keeper  killed  or  miss- 
ing. To  lose  one's  deer  and  keeper  too  were 
overmuch. 

"  Do,  in  God's  merciful  name,  hand  unto  me 
a  glass  of  sack,  Master  Silas  1  I  wax  faintish  at 
the  big,  squat  man.  He  hath  harmed  not  only 
me,  but  mine.  Furthermore,  the  examination 
is  grown  so  long." 

Then  was  the  wine  delivered  by  Sir  Silas  into 
the  hand  of  his  worship,  who  drank  it  ofT  in  a 
beaker  of  about  half  a  pint, — but  little  to  his 
satisfaction,  for  he  said  shortly  afterward,  — 

"  Hast  thou  poured  no  water  into  the  sack, 
good  Master  Silas  ?  It  seemeth  weaker  and 
washier  than  ordinary,  and  affordeth  small  com- 
fort unto  the  breast  and  stomach." 

"Not  I,  truly,  sir,"  replied  Master  Silas; 
"  and  the  bottle  is  a  fresh  and  sound  one.  The 
cork  reported  on  drawing,  as  the  best  diver  doth 
on  sousing  from  Warwick  bridge  into  Avon.  A 
rare  cork  !  as  bright  as  the  glass  bottle,  and  as 
smooth  as  the  lips  of  any  cow." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

'*  My  mouth  is  out  of  taste  this  morning  ;  or 
the  same  wine,  mayhap,  hath  a  different  force 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  27 

and  flavor  in  the  dining-room  and  among  friends. 
But  to  business  —  what  more  ?  " 

"  Euseby  Treen,  what  may  it  be  ?  "  said  I. 

"  I  know/'  quoth  he,  "  but  dare  not  breathe 
it." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  I  thought  I  had  taken  a  glass  of  wine,  verily. 
Attention  to  my  duty  as  a  magistrate  is  para- 
mount. I  mind  nothing  else  when  that  lies 
before  me. 

"  Carnaby  I  I  credit  thy  honesty,  but  doubt 
thy  manhood.  Why  not  breathe  it.  with  a 
vengeance  ? " 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"  It  was  Euseby  who  dared  not." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Stand  still  1  Say  nothing  yet ;  mind  my  or- 
ders.    Fair  and  softly  1    compose  thyself." 

They  all  stood  silent  for  some  time,  and 
looked  very  composed,  awaiting  the  commands 
of  the  knight.  His  mind  was  clearly  in  such  a 
state  of  devotion  that  peradventure  he  might 
not  have  descended  for  a  while  longer  to  his 
mundane  duties,  had  not  Master  Silas  told  him 
that,  under  the  shadow  of  his  wing,  their  cour- 


28  Examination  of 

age  had  returned  and  they  were  quite  composed 
again. 

"  You  may  proceed,""  said  the  knight. 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"  Master  Treen  did  take  ofT  his  cap  and  wipe 
his  forehead.  I,  for  the  sake  of  comforting  him 
in  this  his  heaviness,  placed  my  hand  upon  his 
crown  ;  and  truly  I  might  have  taken  it  for  a 
tuft  of  bents,  the  hair  on  end,  the  skin  immova- 
ble as  God's  earth  I  " 

Sir  Thomas,  hearing  these  words,  lifted  up  his 
hands  above  his  own  head,  and  in  the  loudest 
voice  he  had  yet  uttered  did  he  cry,  — 

"  Wonderful  are  thy  ways  in  Israel,  O 
Lord  1  " 

So  saying,  the  pious  knight  did  strike  his 
knee  with  the  palm  of  his  right  hand  ;  and  then 
gave  he  a  sign,  bowing  his  head  and  closing  his 
eyes,  by  which  Master  Carnaby  did  think  he 
signified  his  pleasure  that  he  should  go  on  de- 
posing.    And  he  went  on  thus  :  — 

JOSEPH   CARNABY. 

"  At  this  moment  one  of  the  accomplices 
cried.  '  Willy  I  Willy  1  prithee  stop  1  enough 
in  all  conscience  1  First  thou  divertedst  us 
from  our  undertaking  with  thy  strange  vagaries, 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  29 

thy  Italian  girls'  nursery  sigh,  thy  Pucks  and 
pinchings,  and  thy  Windsor  whimsies.  No  kit- 
ten upon  a  bed  of  marum  ever  played  such  antics. 
It  was  summer  and  winter,  night  and  day  with 
us  within  the  hour  ;  and  in  such  religion  did 
we  think  and  feel  it,  we  would  have  broken 
the  man's  jaw  who  gainsaid  it.  We  have  slept 
with  thee  under  the  oaks  in  the  ancient  forest 
of  Arden,  and  we  have  wakened  from  our  sleep 
in  the  tempest  far  at  sea.^  Now  art  thou  for 
frightening  us  again  out  of  all  the  senses  thou 
hadst  given  us,  with  witches  and  women  more 
murderous  than  they.'" 

"  Then  followed  a  deeper  voice  :  '  Stouter 
men  and  more  resolute  are  few  ;  but  thou,  my 
lad,  hast  words  too  weighty  for  flesh  and  bones 
to  bear  up  against.  And  who  knows  but  these 
creatures  may  pop  amongst  us  at  last,  as  the 
wolf  did,  sure  enough,  upon  him,  the  noisy 
rogue,  who  so  long  had  been  crying  wolf! 
and  wolf! 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Well  spoken,  for  two  thieves  ;  albeit  I  miss 
the  meaning  of  the  most  part.  Did  they  prevail 
with  the  scapegrace  and  stop  him  ? " 

1  By  this  deposition  it  would  appear  that  Shakspeare 
had  formed  the  idea,  if  not  the  outline,  of  several  plays 
already,  much  as  he  altered  them,  no  doubt,  in  after  life. 


30  Examination  of 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"  The  last  who  had  spoken  did  slap  him  on 
the  shoulder,  saying,  'Jump  into  the  punt,  lad, 
and  across.'  Thereupon  did  "Will  Shakspeare 
jump  into  said  punt,  and  begin  to  sing  a  song 
about  a  mermaid." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"Sir!  is  this  credible?  I  will  be  sworn  I 
never  saw  one ;  and  verily  do  believe  that 
scarcely  one  in  a  hundred  years  doth  venture 
so  far  up  the  Avon." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"There  is  something  in  this.  Thou  mayest 
have  sung  about  one,  nevertheless.  Young 
poets  take  great  liberties  with  all  female  kind  ; 
not  that  mermaids  are  such  very  unlawful  game 
for  them,  and  there  be  songs  even  about  worse 
and  staler  fish.  Mind  ye  that  !  Thou  hast 
written  songs,  and  hast  sung  them,  and  lewd 
enough  they  be,  God  wot ! " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  worship  1  they  were  not 
mine  then.  Peradventure  the  song  about  the 
mermaid  may  have  been  that  ancient  one  which 


Willi  am  Shakspeare,  etc.  31 

every  boy  in  most  parishes  has  been  singing  for 
many  years,  and,  perhaps,  his  father  before  him; 
and  somebody  was  singing  it  then,  mayhap,  to 
keep  up  his  courage  in  the  night." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  I  never  heard  it." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  Nobody  would  dare  to  sing  in  the  presence 
of  your  worship,  unless  commanded,  —  not  even 
the  mermaid  herself." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*'  Canst  thou  sing  it  ? " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Verily,  I  can  sing  nothing." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Canst  thou  repeat  it  from  memory  ?  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  It  is  so  long  since  I  have  thought  about  it, 
that  I  may  fail  in  the  attempt." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

'*  Try,  however." 


32  Examination  of 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"*  The  mermaid  sat  upon  the  rocks 
All  day  long, 
Admiring  her  beauty  and  combing  her  locks, 
And  singing  a  mermaid  song.'  " 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  What  was  it  ?  what  was  it?  I  thought  as 
much.  There  thou  standest,  like  a  woodpecker, 
chattering  and  chattering,  breaking  the  bark 
with  thy  beak,  and  leaving  the  grub  where  it 
was.  This  is  enough  to  put  a  saint  out  of 
patience." 

■WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  The  wishes  of  your  worship  possess  a  mys- 
terious influence,  —  I  now  remember  all. 

"  '  And  hear  the  mermaid's  song  you  may, 
As  sure  as  sure  can  be, 
If  you  will  but  follow  the  sun  all  day, 
And  souse  with  him  into  the  sea.*  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  It  must  be  an  idle  fellow  who  would  take 
that  trouble  ;  besides,  unless  he  nicked  the 
time  he  might  miss  the  monster.  There  be 
many  who  are  slow  to  believe  that  the  mermaid 
singeth." 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  33 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Ah,  sir  I  not  only  the  mermaid  singeth,  but 
the  merman  sweareth,  as  another  old  song  will 
convince  you." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  I  would  fain  be  convinced  of  God's  won- 
ders in  the  great  deeps,  and  would  lean  upon 
the  weakest  reed  like  unto  thee  to  manifest  his 
glory.     Thou  mayest  convince  me." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

I. 

"  *A  wonderful  story,  my  lasses  and  lads, 

Peradventure  you  've  heard  from  your  grannams  or  dads, 
Of  a  merman  that  came  every  night  to  woo 
The  spinster  of  spinsters,  our  Catherine  Crewe. 


"'  But  Catherine  Crewe 
Is  now  seventy-two, 
And  avers  she  hath  half  forgotten 
The  truth  of  the  tale,  when  you  ask  her  about  it, 
And  says,  as  if  fain  to  deny  it  or  flout  it, 
"  Fook  !  the  tnerman  is  dead  and  rotten." 

3- 

"  '  The  merman  came  up  as  the  mermen  are  wont, 
To  the  top  of  the  water,  and  then  swam  upon  't ; 
And  Catherine  saw  him  with  both  her  two  eyes, 
A  lusty  young  merman  full  six  feet  in  size. 


34  Examination  of 


" '  And  Catherine  was  frighten'd, 

Her  scalp-skin  it  tighten'd. 
And  her  head  it  swam  strangely,  although  on  dry  land ; 

And  the  merman  made  bold 

Eftsoons  to  lay  hold 
(T/iis  Catherine  well  recollects)  of  her  hand. 

5- 

"  '  But  how  could  a  merman,  if  ever  so  good, 
Or  if  ever  so  clever,  be  well  understood 
By  a  simple  young  creature  of  our  fiesh  and  blood  ? 

6. 

"  '  Some  tell  us  the  merman 
Can  only  speak  German, 
In  a  voice  between  grunting  and  snoring ; 
But  Catherine  says  he  had  learn,'d  in  the  wars 
The  language,  persuasions,  and  oaths  of  our  tars. 
And  that  even  his  voice  was  not  foreign. 

7- 

" '  Yet  when  she  was  asked  how  he  managed  to  hide 
The  green  fishy  tail,  coming  out  of  the  tide 

For  night  after  night  above  twenty, 
"  You  troublesome  creatures  I  "  old  Catherine  replied, 
"In  his  pocket ;  won't  that  now  content  ye  ?  "  '  " 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  I  have  my  doubts  yet.  I  should  have  said 
unto  her,  seriously,  *  Kate  1  Kate  !  I  am  not 
convinced.'     There  may  be  witchcraft  or  sorti- 


William  Shahspeare,  etc.  35 

lege    in    it.      I    would   have   made    it  a   star- 
chamber  matter." 


WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  It  was  one,  sir."" 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  And  now  I  am  reminded  by  this  silly, 
childish  song,  — which,  after  all,  is  not  the  true 
mermaid's,  —  thou  didst  tell  me,  Silas,  that  the 
papers  found  in  the  lad"s  pocket  were  intended 
for  poetry." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  I  wish  he  had  missed  his  aim.  sir,  in  your 
park,  as  he  hath  missed  it  in  his  poetry.  The 
papers  are  not  worth  reading  ;  they  do  not  go 
against  him  in  the  point  at  issue." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

'•  "We  must  see  that,  —  they  being  taken  upon 
his  person  when  apprehended.'" 

SIR   SILAS. 

"  Let  Ephraim  read  them,  then  ;  it  behooveth 
not  me,  a  Master  of  Arts,  to  con  a  whelp's 
whinlnsr." 


36  Examination  of 


SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Do  thou  read  them  aloud  unto  us,  good 
Master  Ephraim." 

Whereupon  I  took  the  papers  which  young 
"Willy  had  not  bestowed  much  pains  on  ;  and 
they  posed  and  puzzled  me  grievously,  for  they 
were  blotted  and  scrawled  in  many  places,  as 
if  somebody  had  put  him  out.  These  likewise 
I  thought  fit,  after  long  consideration,  to  write 
better,  and  preserve,  great  as  the  loss  of  time 
is  when  men  of  business  take  in  hand  such  un- 
seemly matters.  However,  they  are  decenter 
than  most,  and  not  without  their  moral  ;  for 
example  :  — 

"TO  THE  OWLET. 

"  Who,  O  thou  sapient,  saintly  bird  I 
Thy  shouted  warnings  ever  heard 

Unbleached  by  fear? 
The  blue-faced  blubbering  imp,  who  steals 
Von  turnips,  thinks  thee  at  his  heels, 

Afar  or  near. 

"  The  brawnier  churl,  who  brags  at  times 
To  front  and  top  the  rankest  crimes,  — 

To  paunch  a  deer. 
Quarter  a  priest,  or  squeeze  a  wench,  — 
Scuds  from  thee,  clammy  as  a  tench, 

lie  knows  not  where. 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  37 

"  For  this  the  righteous  Lord  of  all 
Consigns  to  thee  the  castle-wall, 

When,  many  a  year, 
Closed  in  the  chancel-vaults,  are  eyes 
Rainy  or  sunny  at  the  sighs 

Of  knight  or  peer." 

Sir  Thomas,  when  I  had  ended,  said  unto  me, 

"No  harm  herein  ;  but  are  they  over  ? " 

I  replied,  "  Yea,  sir  !  " 

"  I  miss  the  posy,""  quoth  he  ;  "  there  is 
usually  a  lump  of  sugar,  or  a  smack  thereof  at 
the  bottom  of  the  glass.  They  who  are  inex- 
perienced in  poetry  do  write  it  as  boys  do  their 
copies  in  the  copy-book,  without  a  flourish  at 
the  finis.  It  is  only  the  master  who  can  do  this 
befittingly." 

I  bowed  unto  his  worship  reverentially,  think- 
ing of  a  surety  he  meant  me,  and  returned  my 
best  thanks  in  set  language.  But  his  worship 
rebuffed  them,  and  told  me  graciously  that  he 
had  an  eye  on  another  of  very  different  quality  ; 
that  the  plain  sense  of  his  discourse  might  do  for 
me,  the  subtler  was  certainly  for  himself.  He 
added  that  in  his  younger  days  he  had  heard 
from  a  person  of  great  parts,  and  had  since 
profited  by  it,  that  ordinary  poets  are  like 
adders,  —  the  tail  blunt  and  the  body  rough,  and 
the   whole  reptile   cold-blooded   and  sluggish  ; 


428517 


38  Examination  of 

"whereas  we,"  he  subjoined,  ''leap  and  caracole 
and  curvet,  and  are  as  warm  as  velvet,  and  as 
sleek  as  satin,  and  as  perfumed  as  a  Naples  fan, 
in  every  part  of  us;  and  the  end  of  our  poems  is 
as  pointed  as  a  perch's  back-fin,  and  it  requires 
as  much  nicety  to  pick  it  up  as  a  needle  ^  at  nine 
groats  the  hundred." 

Then  turning  toward  the  culprit,  he  said 
mildly  unto  him,  — 

"  Now  why  canst  thou  not  apply  thyself  unto 
study  }  Why  canst  thou  not  ask  advice  of  thy 
superiors  in  rank  and  wisdom  }  In  a  few  years, 
under  good  discipline,  thou  mightest  rise  from 
the  owlet  unto  the  peacock.  I  know  not  what 
pleasant  things  might  not  come  into  the  youthful 
head  thereupon. 

"  He  was  the  bird  of  Venus, ^  goddess  of 
beauty.  He  flew  down  (I  speak  as  a  poet,  and 
not  in  my  quality  of  knight  and  Christian)  with 
half  the  stars  of  heaven  upon  his  tail ;  and  his 
long,  blue  neck  doth  verily  appear  a  dainty  slice 
out  of  the  solid  sky." 

1  The  greater  part  of  the  value  of  the  present  work 
arises  from  the  certain  information  it  affords  us  on  the 
price  of  small  needles  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  Fine 
needles  in  her  days  were  made  only  at  Liege,  and  some 
few  cities  in  the  Netherlands,  and  may  be  reckoned  among 
those  things  which  were  mnch  dearer  than  they  arc  now. 

'■^  Mr.  Tooke  had  not  yet  published  his  Pantlifott. 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  39 

Sir  Silas  smote  me  with  his  elbow,  and  said  in 
my  ear,  — 

"  He  wanteth  not  this  stuffing;  he  beats  a 
pheasant  out  of  the  kitchen,  to  my  mind,  take 
him  only  at  the  pheasant's  size,  and  don't  (upon 
your  life)  overdo  him. 

"  Never  be  cast  down  in  spirit,  nor  take  it 
too  grievously  to  heart,  if  the  colour  be  a  sus- 
picion of  the  pinkish,  —  no  sign  of  rawness  in 
that ;  none  whatever.  It  is  as  becoming  to 
him  as  to  the  salmon  ;  it  is  as  natural  to  your 
pea-chick  in  his  best  cookery,  as  it  is  to  the 
finest  October  morning,  —  moist  underfoot, 
when  partridge's  and  puss's  and  renard's  scent 
lies  sweetly." 

Willie  Shakspeare,  in  the  mean  time,  lifted  up 
his  hands  above  his  ears  half  a  cubit,  and  taking 
breath  again,  said,  audibly,  although  he  willed  it 
to  be  said  unto  himself  alone,  — 

"  O  that  knights  could  deign  to  be  our 
teachers  1  Methinks  I  should  briefly  spring  up 
into  heaven,  through  the  very  chink  out  of  which 
the  peacock  took  his  neck." 

Master  Silas,  who  like  myself  and  the 
worshipful  knight,  did  overhear  him,  said 
angrily,— 

"  To  spring  up  into  heaven,  my  lad,  it  would 
be  as  well  to  have  at  least  one  foot  upon  the 


40  Examination  of 

ground  to  make  the  spring  withal.  I  doubt 
whether  we  shall  leave  thee  this  vantage." 

*'  Nay,  nay  !  thou  art  hard  upon  him,  Silas," 
said  the  knight. 

I  was  turning  over  the  other  papers  taken 
from  the  pocket  of  the  culprit  on  his  appre- 
hension, and  had  fixed  my  eyes  on  one,  when 
Sir  Thomas  caught  them  thus  occupied,  and 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Mercy  upon  us  !  have  we  more  ?  " 

"Your  patience,  worshipful  sir!"  said  I; 
"  must  I  forward  .'^  " 

"  Yea,  yea,"  quoth  he,  resignedly,  "  we 
must  go  through  ;  we  are  pilgrims  in  this 
life." 

Then  did  I  read,  in  a  clear  voice,  the 
contents  of  paper  the  second,  being  as 
followeth  :  — 

"THE   MAID'S    LAiMENT. 

"  I  loved  him  not ;  and  yet,  now  he  is  gone, 

I  feel  I  am  alone. 
I  check'd  him  while  he  spoke  ;  yet,  could  he  speak, 

Alas!  I  would  not  check. 
For  reasons  not  to  love  him  once  I  sought, 

And  wearied  all  my  thought 
To  vex  myself  and  him  :  I  now  would  give 

My  love  could  he  but  live 
Who  lately  lived  for  me,  and  when  he  found 

'T  was  vain,  in  holv  ground 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  41 

He  hid  his  face  amid  the  shades  of  death  ! 

I  waste  for  him  my  breath 
Who  wasted  his  for  me  I  but  mine  returns, 

And  this  lorn  bosom  burns 
With  stifling  heat,  heaving  it  up  in  sleep, 

And  waking  me  to  weep 
Tears  that  had  melted  his  soft  heart.    For  years 

Wept  he  as  bitter  tears  ! 
Merciful  God!  such  was  his  latest  prayer, 

These  may  she  never  share  ! 
,        Quieter  is  his  breath,  his  breast  more  cold. 

Than  daisies  in  the  mould. 
Where  children  spell,  athwart  the  churchyard  gate, 

His  name  and  life's  brief  date. 
Pray  for  him,  gentle  souls,  whoe'er  you  be, 

And,  oh  !  pray  too  for  me  !  " 

Sir  Thomas  had  fallen  into  a  most  comfortable 
and  refreshing  slumber  ere  this  lecture  was  con- 
cluded ;  but  the  pause  broke  it,  as  there  be 
many  who  experience  after  the  evening  service 
in  our  parish-church.  Howbeit,  he  had  presently 
all  his  wits  ab^ut  him,  and  remembered  well 
that  he  had  been  carefully  counting  the  syllables, 
about  the  time  when  I  had  pierced  as  far  as  into 
the  middle. 

"Young  man,"  said  he  to  Willy,  "thou 
givest  short  measure  in  every  other  sack  of  the 
load.  Thy  uppermost  stake  is  of  right  length  ; 
the  undermost  falleth  off,  methinks. 

"  Master  Ephraim,  canst  thou  count  sylla- 
bles ?     I  mean  no  offence.     I  may  have  counted 


42  Examination  of 

wrongfully  myself,  not  being  born  nor  educated 
for  an  accountant." 

At  such  order  I  did  count ;  and  truly  the 
suspicion  was  as  just  as  if  he  had  neither  been 
a  knight  nor  a  sleeper. 

'•  Sad  stuff!  sad  stuff,  indeed  !  "  said  Master 
Silas,  ' '  and  smelling  of  popery  and  wax-candles." 

"  Ay  .>  "  said  Sir  Thomas,  "I  must  sift 
that." 

"  If  praying  for  the  dead  is  not  popery,"  said 
Master  Silas,  "  I  know  not  what  the  devil  is. 
Let  them  pray  for  us  ;  they  may  know  whether 
it  will  do  us  any  good.  We  need  not  pray  for 
them  ;  we  cannot  tell  whether  it  will  do  them 
any.     I  call  this  sound  divinity." 

''  Are  our  churchmen  all  agreed  thereupon  ?  " 
asked  Sir  Thomas. 

"  The  wisest  are,"  replied  Master  Silas. 

'•  There  are  some  lank  rascals  who  will  never 
agree  upon  anything  but  upon  doubting.  I 
would  not  give  ninepence  for  the  best  gown 
upon  the  most  thrifty  of  'em  ;  and  their  fingers 
are  as  stiff  and  hard  with  their  pedlary,  knavish 
writing,  as  any  bishop's  are  with  chalk-stones 
won  honestly  from  the  gout." 

Sir  Thomas  took  the  paper  up  from  the 
table  on  which  I  had  laid  it,  and  said  after  a 
while,  — 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  43 

"The  man  may  only  have  swoon.ed.  I  scorn 
to  play  the  critic,  or  to  ask  any  one  the  mean- 
ing of  a  word  ;  but,  sirrah  !  " 

Here  he  turned  in  his  chair  from  the  side  of 
Master  Silas,  and  said  unto  Willy,  — 

"  William  Shakspeare  I  out  of  this  thraldom 
in  regard  to  popery,  I  hope,  by  God's  blessing, 
to  deliver  thee.  If  ever  thou  repeatest  the  said 
verses,  knowing  the  man  to  be  to  all  intents 
and  purposes  a  dead  man,  prythee  read  the 
censurable  line  as  thus  corrected,  — 

'  Pray  for  our  Virgin  Queen,  gentles  !  whoe'er  you  be.* 

although  it  is  not  quite  the  thing  that  another 
should  impinge  so  closely  on  her  skirts. 

"  By  this  improvement,  of  me  suggested, 
thou  mayest  make  some  amends  —  a  syllable  or 
two  —  for  the  many  that  are  weighed  in  the 
balance  and  are  found  wanting." 

Then  turning  unto  me,  as  being  conver- 
sant by  my  profession  in  such  matters,  and 
the  same  being  not  very  worthy  of  learned 
and  staid  clerks  the  like  of  Master  Silas,  he 
said,  — 

"  Of  all  the  youths  that  did  ever  write  in 
verse,  this  one  verily  is  he  who  hath  the  fewest 
flowers  and  devices.  But  it  would  be  loss  of 
time  to  form  a  border,  in  the  fashion  of  a  kingly 


44  Examination  of 

crown,  or  a  dragon,  or  a  Turk  on  horseback, 
out  of  buttercups  and  dandelions. 

"  Master  Ephraim  !  look  at  these  badgers  1 
with  a  long  leg  on  one  quarter  and  a  short  leg 
on  the  other.  The  wench  herself  might  well 
and  truly  have  said  all  that  matter  without  the 
poet,  bating  the  rhymes  and  metre.  Among 
the  girls  in  the  country  there  are  many  such 
shilly-shall/s,  who  give  themselves  sore  eyes 
and  sharp  eye-water ;  I  would  cure  them  rod 
in  hand." 

Whereupon  did  William  Shakspeare  say, 
with  great  humility,  — 

"So  would  I,  may  it  please  your  worship, 
an  they  would  let  me." 

"  Incorrigible  sluts  !  Out  upon  'em  !  and 
thou  art  no  better  than  they  are,"  quoth  the 
knight. 

Master  Silas  cried  aloud,  "  No  better,  marry  1 
they  at  the  worst  are  but  carted  and  whipped 
for  the  edification  of  the  market-folks.-'  Not  a 
squire  or  parson  in  the  country  round  but  comes 
in  his  best  to  see  a  man  hanged." 

"The  edification  then  is  higher  by  a  deal," 
said  William,  very  composedly. 

"  Troth  !  is  it,"  replied  Master  Silas.  "  The 
most  poisonous  reptile  has  the  richest  jewel  in 
1  This  was  really  the  case  within  our  memory. 


IVilliam  Sbakspeare,  etc.  45 

his  head  ;  thou  shalt  share  the  richest  gift  be- 
stowed upon  royalty,  and  shalt  cure  the  king's 
evil."^ 

"  It  is  more  tractable,  then,  than  the  church's," 
quoth  William  ;  and,  turning  his  face  toward 
the  chair,  he  made  an  obeisance  to  Sir  Thomas, 
saying,  — 

"Sir  1  the  more  submissive  my  behaviour  is, 
the  more  vehement  and  boisterous  is  Master 
Silas.  My  gentlest  words  serve  only  to  carry 
him  toward  the  contrary  quarter,  as  the  south 
wind  bloweth  a  ship  northward." 

"  Youth,"  said  Sir  Thomas,  smiling  most 
benignly,  "  I  find,  and  well  indeed  might  I 
have  surmised,  thy  utter  ignorance  of  winds, 
equinoxes,  and  tides.  Consider  now  a  little  1 
With  what  propriety  can  a  wind  be  called  a 
south  wind  if  it  bloweth  a  vessel  to  the  north  ? 
Would  it  be  a  south  wind  that  blew  it  from  this 
hall  into  Warwick  market-place  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  a  strong  one,"  said  Master 
Silas  unto  me,  pointing  his  remark,  as  witty 
men  are  wont,  with  the  elbow-pan. 

1  It  was  formerly  thought,  and  perhaps  is  thought  still, 
that  the  hand  of  a  man  recently  hanged,  being  rubbed  on 
the  tumour  of  the  king's  evil,  was  able  to  cure  it.  The 
crown  and  the  gallows  divided  the  glory  of  the  sovereign 
remedy. 


46  Examination  of 

But  Sir  Thomas,  who  waited  for  an  answer, 
and  received  none,  continued, — 

"Would  a  man  be  called  a  good  man  who 
tended  and  pushed  on  toward  evil  ?  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  stand  corrected.  I  could  sail  to  Cathay 
or  Tartary^  with  half  the  nautical  knowledge 
I  have  acquired  in  this  glorious  hall. 

"The  devil  impelling  a  mortal  to  wrong 
courses,  is  thereby  known  to  be  the  devil. 
He,  on  the  contrary,  who  exciteth  to  good  is 
no  devil,  but  an  angel  of  light,  or  under  the 
guidance  of  one.  The  devil  driveth  unto  his 
own  home  ;  so  doth  the  south  wind,  so  doth  the 
north  wind. 

"  Alas  1  alas !  we  possess  not  the  mastery 
over  our  own  weak  minds  when  a  higher  spirit 
standeth  nigh  and  draweth  us  within  his  in- 
fluence." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"Those  thy  words  are  well  enough, — very 
well,  very  good,  wise,  discreet,  judicious  be- 
yond thy  years.  But  then  that  sailing  comes  in 
an  awkward,  ugly  way  across  me, — that  Calhay, 
that  Tartarus  ! 

1  And  yet  he  never  did  sail  any  farther  than  into 
Bohemia. 


William  Shahspeare,  etc.  47 

**  Have  a  care  I  Do  thou  nothing  rashly. 
Mind  I  an  thou  stealest  my  punt  for  the  pur- 
pose, I  send  the  constable  after  thee  or  e'er 
thou  art  half  way  over." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  He  vv^ould  make  a  stock-fish  of  me  an  he 
caught  me.  It  is  hard  sailing  out  of  his  straits, 
although  they  be  carefully  laid  down  in  most 
parishes,  and  may  have  taken  them  from  actual 
survey." 

SIR   SILAS. 

*'  Sir,  we  have  bestowed  on  him  already  well- 
nigh  a  good  hour  of  our  time." 

Sir  Thomas,  who  was  always  fond  of  giving 
admonition  and  reproof  to  the  ignorant  and 
erring,  and  who  had  found  the  seeds  (little 
mustard-seeds,  't  is  true,  and  never  likely  to 
arise  into  the  great  mustard-tree  of  the  Gospel) 
in  the  poor  lad  Willy,  did  let  his  heart  soften  a 
whit  tenderer  and  kindlier  than  Master  Silas 
did,  and  said  unto  Master  Silas,  — 

"  A  good  hour  of  our  time  I  Yea,  Silas  !  and 
thou  wouldst  give  him  eternity  !  " 

"•  What,  sir !  would  you  let  him  go  ? "  said 
Master  Silas.  *'  Presently  we  shall  have  nei- 
ther deer  nor  dog,  neither  hare  nor  coney,  nei- 


48  Examination  of 

ther  swan  nor  heron  ;  every  carp  from  pool, 
every  bream  from  brook,  will  be  groped  for. 
The  marble  monuments  in  the  church  will  no 
longer  protect  the  leaden  coffins  ;  and  if  there  be 
any  ring  of  gold  on  the  finger  of  knight  or  dame, 
it  will  be  torn  away  with  as  little  ruth  and  cere- 
mony as  the  ring  from  a  butchered  sow's  snout." 

''Awful  words!  Master  Silas,"  quoth  the 
knight,  musing  ;  "  but  thou  mistakest  my  in- 
tentions. I  let  him  not  go ;  howbeit,  at  worst 
I  would  only  mark  him  in  the  ear,  and  turn 
him  up  again  after  this  warning,  peradventure 
with  a  few  stripes  to  boot  athwart  the  shoul- 
ders, in  order  to  make  them  shrug  a  little,  and 
shake  off  the  burden  of  idleness." 

Now  I,  having  seen,  I  dare  not  say  the  inno- 
cence, but  the  innocent  and  simple  manner  of 
Willy,  and  pitying  his  tender  years,  and  hav- 
ing an  inkling  that  he  was  a  lad,  poor  Willy  1 
whom  God  had  endowed  with  some  parts,  and 
into  whose  breast  he  had  instilled  that  milk  of 
loving-kindness  by  which  alone  we  can  be  like 
unto  those  little  children  of  whom  is  the  house- 
hold and  kingdom  of  ourLord,  —  I  was  moved, 
yea,  even  unto  tears.  And  now,  to  bring 
gentler  thoughts  into  the  hearts  of  Master 
Silas  and  Sir  Thomas,  who,  in  his  wisdom, 
deemed  it  a  light  punishment  to  slit  an  ear  or 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  49 

two,  or  inflict  a  wiry  scourging,  I  did  remind 
his  worship  that  another  paper  was  yet  unread, 
at  least  to  them,  although  I  had  been  perusing  it. 
This  was  much  pleasanter  than  the  two 
former,  and  overflowing  with  the  praises  of 
the  worthy  knight  and  his  gracious  lady  ;  and 
having  an  echo  to  it  in  another  voice,  I  did 
hope  thereby  to  disarm  their  just  wrath  and  in- 
dignation.    It  was  thus  couched  :  — 

"  FIRST   SHEPHERD. 

"  Jesu  !  what  lofty  elms  are  here  ! 
Let  me  look  through  them  at  the  clear, 
Deep  sky  above,  and  bless  my  star 
That  such  a  worthy  knight's  they  are  I 

"SECOND  SHEPHERD. 
"  Innocent  creatures  !  how  those  deer 
Trot  merrily,  and  romp  and  rear  ! 

"  FIRST   SHEPHERD. 

"  The  glorious  knight  who  walks  beside 
His  most  majestic  lady  bride, 

"second   SHEPHERD. 

"  Under  these  branches  spreading  wide, 

"FIRST   SHEPHERD. 

"  Carries  about  so  many  cares 
Touching  his  ancestors  and  heirs, 
That  came  from  Athens  and  from  Rome  — 

"  SECOND   SHEPHERD. 

"  As  many  of  them  as  are  come  — 
4 


50  Examination  of 

"  FIRST    SHEPHERD. 

"  Nought  else  the  smallest  lodge  can  find 
In  the  vast  manors  of  his  mind ; 
Envying  not  Solomon  his  wit  — 

"second  shepherd. 

"  No,  nor  his  women  not  a  bit ; 

Being  well-built  and  well-behaved 

As  Solomon,  I  trow,  or  David. 
"  FIRST   SHEPHERD. 
"  And  taking  by  his  jewell'd  hand 

The  jewel  of  that  lady  bland, 

He  sees  the  tossing  antlers  pass 

And  throw  quaint  shadows  o'er  the  grass  ; 

While  she  alike  the  hour  beguiles. 

And  looks  at  him  and  them,  and  smiles. 

"second   SHEPHERD. 

"  With  conscience  proof  'gainst  Satan's  shock, 
Albeit  finer  than  her  smock,' 
Marry!  her  smiles  are  not  of  vanity, 
But  resting  on  sound  Christianity. 
Faith,  you  would  swear,  had  nail'd  ^  her  ears  on 
The  book  and  cushion  of  the  parson." 

"  Methinks  the  rhyme  at  the  latter  end  might 
be  bettered,"  said  Sir  Thomas.  "The  remainder 
is  indited  not  unaptly.     But,  young  man,  never 

*  Smock,  formerly  a  part  of  the  female  dress,  corre- 
sponding with  shroud,  or  what  we  now  call  (or  lately 
called)  shh-t  of  the  man's.  Fox,  speaking  of  Latimer's 
burning,  says,  "  Being  slipped  into  his  shroud.'' 

2  Faith  nailing  the  ears  is  a  strong  and  sacred  meta- 
phor. The  rhyme  is  imperfect, —  Shakspeare  was  not 
always  attentive  to  these  minor  beauties. 


William  Shakspeare.  etc.  51 

having  obtained  the  permission  of  my  honour- 
able dame  to  praise  her  in  guise  of  poetry,  I 
cannot  see  all  the  merit  I  would  fain  discern  in 
the  verses.  She  ought  first  to  have  been 
sounded  ;  and  it  being  certified  that  she  disap- 
proved not  her  glorification,  then  might  it  be 
trumpeted  forth  into  the  world  below." 

"  Most  worshipful  knight,"  replied  the 
youngster,  "  I  never  could  take  it  in  hand  to 
sound  a  dame  of  quality,  — they  are  all  of  them 
too  deep  and  too  practised  for  me,  and  have 
better  and  abler  men  about  'em.  And  surely  I 
did  imagine  to  myself  that  if  it  were  asked  of 
any  honourable  man  (omitting  to  speak  of  ladies) 
whether  he  would  give  permission  to  be  openly 
praised,  he  would  reject  the  application  as  a 
gross  offence.  It  appeareth  to  me  that  even  to 
praise  one's  self,  although  it  be  shameful,  is  less 
shameful  than  to  throw  a  burning  coal  into  the 
incense-box  that  another  doth  hold  to  waft  be- 
fore us,  and  then  to  snift  and  simper  over  it, 
with  maidenly,  wishful  coyness,  as  if  forsooth 
'one  had  no  hand  in  setting  it  asmoke." 

Then  did  Sir  Thomas,  in  his  zeal  to  instruct 
the  ignorant,  and  so  make  the  lowly  hold  up 
their  heads,   say  unto  him,  — 

"  Nay,  but  all  the  great  do  thus.  Thou  must 
not     praise    them   without    leave   and    license. 


52  Examination  of 

Praise  unpermitted  is  plebeian  praise.  It  is 
presumption  to  suppose  that  thou  knowest 
enough  of  the  noble  and  the  great  to  discover 
their  high  qualities.  They  alone  could  manifest 
them  unto  thee.  It  requireth  much  discern- 
ment and  much  time  to  enucleate  and  bring  into 
light  their  abstruse  wisdom  and  gravely  featured 
virtues.  Those  of  ordinary  men  lie  before  thee 
in  thy  daily  walks  ;  thou  mayest  know  them  by 
converse  at  their  tables,  as  thou  knowest  the 
little  tame  squirrel  that  chippeth  his  nuts  in  the 
open  sunshine  of  a  bowling-green.  But  beware 
how  thou  enterest  the  awful  arbours  of  the 
great,  who  conceal  their  magnanimity  in  the 
depths  of  their  hearts,  as  lions  do." 

He  then  paused  ;  and  observing  the  youth 
in  deep  and  earnest  meditation  over  the  fruits 
of  his  experience,  as  one  who  tasted  and  who 
would  fain  digest  them,  he  gave  him  encour- 
agement, and  relieved  the  weight  of  his  musings 
by  kind  interrogation. 

"  So,  then,  these  verses  are  thine  own  ? " 

The  youth  answered,  — 

"  Sir,  I  must  confess  my  fault." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  And  who  was  the  shepherd  written  here 
Second  Shepherd,  that  had   the  ill   manners    to 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  53 

interrupt  thee  }  Methinks,  in  helping  thee  to 
mount  the  saddle,  he  pretty  nigh  tossed  thee 
over,^  with  his  jerks  and  quirks." 

Without  waiting  for  any  answer,  his  worship 
continued  his  interrogations. 

"  But  do  you  woolstaplers  call  yourselves  by 
the  style  and  title  of  shepherds  t " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Verily,  sir,  do  we  ;  and  I  trust  by  right. 
The  last  owner  of  any  place  is  called  the  master 
more  properly  than  the  dead  and  gone  who 
once  held  it.  If  that  be  true  (and  who  doubts 
it  r)  we,  who  have  the  last  of  the  sheep,  namely, 
the  wool  and  skin,  and  who  buy  all  of  all  the 
flock,  surely  may  more  properly  be  called  shep- 

1  Shakspeare  seems  to  have  profited  afterward  by 
this  metaphor,  even  more  perhaps  than  by  all  the  direct 
pieces  of  instruction  in  poetry  given  him  so  handsomely 
by  the  worthy  knight.  And  here  it  may  be  permitted  the 
editor  to  profit  also  by  the  manuscript,  correcting  in 
Shakspeare  what  is  absolute  nonsense  as  now  printed :  — 

"  Vaulting  ambition  that  o'erleaps  itself. " 

It  should  be  its  sell.  Sell  is  saddle  in  Spenser  and  else- 
where, from  the  Latin  and  Italian. 

This  emendation  was  shewn  to  the  late  Mr.  Hazlitt,  an 
acute  man  at  least,  who  expressed  his  conviction  that  it 
was  the  right  reading,  and  added  somewhat  more  in  ap- 
probation of  it. 


54  Examination  of 

herds  than  those  idle  vagrants  who  tend  them 
only  for  a  season,  selling  a  score  or  purchasing 
a  score,  as  may  happen." 

Here  Sir  Thomas  did  pause  a  while,  and  then 
said  unto  Master  Silas, — 

''  My  own  cogitations,  and  not  this  stripling, 
have  induced  me  to  consider  and  to  conclude  a 
weighty  matter  for  knightly  scholarship.  I 
never  could  rightly  understand  before  how 
Colin  Clout,  and  sundry  others  calling  them- 
selves shepherds,  should  argue  like  doctors  in 
law,  physic,  and  divinity. 

"  Silas  !  they  were  woolstaplers  ;  and  they 
must  have  exercised  their  wits  in  dealing  with 
tithe-proctors  and  parsons,  and  moreover  with 
fellows  of  colleges  from  our  two  learned  univer- 
sities, who  have  sundry  lands  held  under  them, 
as  thou  knowest,  and  take  the  small  tithes  in 
kind.  Colin  Clout,  methinks,  from  his  exten- 
sive learning,  might  have  acquired  enough  inter- 
est with  the  Queen's  Highness  to  change  his 
name  for  the  better,  and,  furthermore,  her  royal 
license  to  carry  armorial  bearings,  in  no  peril  of 
taint  from  so  unsavoury  an  appellation." 

Master  Silas  did  interrupt  this  discourse,  by 
saying, — 

•*  May  it  please  your  worship,  the  constable 
is  waiting." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  55 

Whereat  Sir  Thomas  said,  tartly,  — 

"■  And  let  him  wait."  ^ 

Then  to  me,  — 

"  I  hope  we  have  done  with  verses,  and  are 
not  to  be  befooled  by  the  lad's  nonsense  touch- 
ing mermaids  or  worse  creatures." 

Then  to  Will,  — 

"  William  Shakspeare  I  we  live  in  a  Christian 
land,  a  land  of  great  toleration  and  forbearance. 
Three  score  cartsful  of  fagots  a  year  are  fully 
sufficient  to  clear  our  English  air  from  every 
pestilence  of  heresy  and  witchcraft.  It  hath 
not  alway  been  so,  God  wot  !  Innocent  and 
guilty  took  their  turns  before  the  fire,  like  geese 
and  capons.  The  spit  was  never  cold  ;  the 
cook's  sleeve  was  ever  above  the  elbow. 
Countrymen  came  down  from  distant  villages 
into  towns  and  cities,  to  see  perverters  whom 
they  had  never  heard  of,  and  to  learn  the  right- 

^  It  has  been  suggested  that  this  answer  was  borrowed 
from  Virgil,  and  goes  strongly  against  the  genuineness  of 
the  manuscript.  The  Editor's  memory  was  upon  the 
stretch  to  recollect  the  words ;  the  learned  critic  supplied 
them :  — 

"  Solum  iEneas  vocat :  et  vocet,  oro." 

The  Editor  could  only  reply,  indeed  weakly,  that  calling 
and  waithig  are  not  exactly  the  same,  unless  when  trades- 
men rap  and  gentlemen  are  leaving  town. 


56  Examination  of 

eousness  of  hatred.  When  heretics  waxed 
fewer  the  religious  began  to  grumble  that 
God,  in  losing  his  enemies,  had  also  lost  his 
avengers. 

"  Do  not  thou,  William  Shakspeare,  dig  the 
hole  for  thy  own  stake.  If  thou  canst  not 
make  men  wise,  do  not  make  them  merry  at 
thy  cost.  We  are  not  to  be  paganised  any 
more.  Having  struck  from  our  calendars,  and 
unnailed  from  our  chapels,  many  dozens  of 
decent  saints,  with  as  little  compunction  and  re- 
morse as  unlucky  lads  throw  frog-spawn  and 
tadpoles  out  of  stagnant  ditches,  never  let  us 
think  of  bringing  back  among  us  the  daintier 
divinities  they  ousted.  All  these  are  the  devil's 
imps,  beautiful  as  they  appear  in  what  we 
falsely  call  works  of  genius,  which  really  and 
truly  are  the  devil's  own,  —  statues  more  grace- 
ful than  humanity,  pictures  more  living  than  life, 
eloquence  that  raised  single  cities  above  em- 
pires, poor  men  above  kings.  If  these  are  not 
Satan's  works,  where  are  they  ?  I  will  tell  thee 
where  they  are  likewise.  In  holding  vain  con- 
verse with  false  gods.  The  utmost  we  can 
allow  in  propriety  is  to  call  a  knight  Phoebus, 
and  a  dame  Diana.  They  are  not  meat  for 
every  trencher. 

"  We  must  now  proceed  straightforward  with 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  57 

the  business  on  which  thou  comest  before  us. 
What  further  sayest  thou,  witness  ?  " 

EUSEBY   TREEN. 

"  His  face  was  toward  me  ;  I  saw  it  clearly. 
The  graver  man  followed  him  into  the  punt,  and 
said,  roughly,  '  We  shall  get  hanged  as  sure  as 
thou  pipest.' 

"  Whereunto  he  answered,  — 

'  Naturally,  as  fall  upon  the  ground 
The  leaves  in  winter  and  the  girls  in  spring.' 

And  then  began  he  again  with  the  mermaid  ; 
whereat  the  graver  man  clapped  a  hand  before 
his  mouth,  and  swore  he  should  take  her  in 
wedlock,  to  have  and  to  hold,  if  he  sang  an- 
other stave.  '  And  thou  shalt  be  her  pretty 
little  bridemaid,'  quoth  he  gaily  to  the  graver 
man,  chucking  him  under  the  chin." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  And  what  did  Carnaby  say  unto  thee,  or 
what  didst  thou  say  unto  Carnaby  r " 

EUSEBY   TREEN. 

"  Carnaby  said  unto  me,  somewhat  taunt- 
ingly, '  The  big  squat  man,  that  lay  upon  thy 
bread-basket  like  a  nightmare,  is  a  punt  at  last, 
it  seems.' 


58  Examination  of 

"  '  Punt,  and  more  too,'  answered  I.  '  Tarry 
awhile,  and  thou  shalt  see  this  punt  (so  let  me 
call  it)  lead  them  into  temptation,  and  swamp 
them  or  carry  them  to  the  gallows  ;  I  would 
not  stay  else.'  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  And  what  didst  thou,  Joseph  Carnaby  ?" 

JOSEPH  CARNABY. 

"  Finding  him  neither  slack  nor  shy,  I  readily 
tarried.  We  knelt  down  opposite  each  other, 
and  said  our  prayers  ;  and  he  told  me  he  was 
now  comfortable.  '  The  evil  one,'  said  he, 
'  hath  enough  to  mind  yonder :  he  shall  not 
hurt  us.' 

"  Never  was  a  sweeter  night,  had  there  been 
but  some  mild  ale  under  it,  which  any  one 
would  have  sworn  it  was  made  for.  The  milky 
way  looked  like  a  long  drift  of  hail-stones  on  a 
sunny  ridge." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Hast  thou  done  describing  }  " 

JOSEPH   CARNABY. 

"  Yea,  an  please  your  worship." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  59 

SIR    THOMAS. 

''God's  blessing  be  upon  thee,  honest  Car- 
naby  !  I  feared  a  moon-fall.  In  our  days  no- 
body can  think  about  a  plum-pudding  but  the 
moon  comes  down  upon  it.  I  warrant  ye  this 
lad  here  hath  as  many  moons  in  his  poems  as 
the  Saracens  had  in  their  banners." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  have  not  hatched  mine  yet,  sir.  "When- 
ever I  do  I  trust  it  will  be  worth  taking  to 
market." 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"  I  said  all  I  know  of  the  stars  ;  but  Master 
Euseby  can  run  over  half  a  score  and  upward, 
here  and  there.  '  Am  I  right,  or  wrong  ? '  cried 
he,  spreading  on  the  back  of  my  hand  all  his 
fingers,  stiff  as  antlers  and  cold  as  icicles. 
'  Look  up,  Joseph  I  Joseph  1  there  is  no  Lucifer 
in  the  firmament  I '  I  myself  did  feel  queerish 
and  qualmy  upon  hearing  that  a  star  was  miss- 
ing, being  no  master  of  gainsaying  it ;  and  I 
abased  my  eyes,  and  entreated  of  Euseby  to  do 
in  like  manner.  And  in  this  posture  did  we 
both  of  us  remain  ;  and  the  missing  star  did  not 
disquiet  me ;  and  all  the  others  seemed  as  if 
they  knew  us  and   would  not  tell  of  us ;    and 


6o  Examination  of 

there  was  peace  and  pleasantness  over  sky  and 
earth.     And  I  said  to  my  companion,  — 

"  '  How  quiet  now,  good  Master  Euseby, 
are  all  God's  creatures  in  this  meadow,  because 
they  never  pry  into  such  high  matters,  but 
breathe  sweetly  among  the  pig-nuts.  The  only 
things  we  hear  or  see  stirring  are  the  glow- 
worms and  dormice,  as  though  they  were  sent 
for  our  edification,  teaching  us  to  rest  con- 
tented with  our  own  little  light, and  to  come  out 
and  seek  our  sustenance  where  none  molest 
or  thwart  us. '  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"Ye  would  have  it  thus,  no  doubt,  when 
your  pockets  and  pouches  are  full  of  gins  and 
nooses. ' 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"A  bridle  upon  thy  dragon's  tongue  I  And 
do  thou.  Master  Joseph,  quit  the  dormice  and 
glow-worms,  and  tell  us  whither  did  the  rogues 
go." 

JOSEPH  CARNABY. 

"  I  wot  not  after  they  had  crossed  the  river  ; 
they  were  soon  out  of  sight  and  hearing." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Went  they  toward  Charlecote  ?" 


William  Shahspeare,  etc.  6i 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

*'  Their  first  steps  were  thitherward." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*'  Did  they  come  back  unto  the  punt  ? " 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

*'  They  went  down  the  stream  in  it,  and 
crossed  the  Avon  some  fourscore  yards  below 
where  we  were  standing.  They  came  back  in 
it,  and  moored  it  to  the  sedges  in  which  it  had 
stood  before." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  How  long  were  they  absent  ? " 

JOSEPH    CARNABY. 

"Within  an  hour,  or  thereabout,  all  the 
three  men  returned.  Will  Shakspeare  and 
another  were  sitting  in  the  middle,  the  third 
punted. 

"  '  Remember  now,  gentles  1 '  quoth  William 
Shakspeare,  '  the  road  we  have  taken  is  hence- 
forward a  footpath  for  ever,  according  to 
law.' 

"'How  so?'  asked  the  punter,  turning 
toward  him. 


62  Examination  of 

"  '  Forasmuch  as  a  corpse  hath  passed  along 
it/  answered  he. 

"Whereupon  both  Euseby  and  myself  did 
forthwith  fall  upon  our  faces,  commending  our 
souls  unto  the  Lord." 


SIR   THOMAS. 

"  It  was  then  really  the  dead  body  that 
quivered  so  fearfully  upon  the  water,  covering 
all  the  punt  1  Christ,  deliver  us  1  I  hope  the 
keeper  they  murdered  was  not  Jeremiah.  His 
wife  and  four  children  would  be  very  charge- 
able, and  the  man  was  by  no  means  amiss. 
Proceed  I  what  further  ? " 

*'  On  reaching  the  bank,  '  I  never  sat 
pleasanter  in  my  lifetime,'  said  William  Shak- 
speare,  '  than  upon  this  carcass.'  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us  I  Thou  upon 
a  carcass,  at  thy  years  1  " 

And  the  knight  drew  back  his  chair  half  an  ell 
farther  from  the  table,  and  his  lips  quivered  at 
the  thought  of  such  inhumanity. 

"  And  what  said  he  more  ?  and  what  did 
he  }  "  asked  the  knight. 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  63 


JOSEPH  CARNABY. 


**  He  patted   it   smartly,   and    said,    '  Lug   it 
out ;  break  it.'  " 


SIR  THOMAS. 


"  These  four  poor  children  1  who  shall  feed 
them  ? " 


SIR  SILAS. 

**Sir!  in  God's  name  have  you  forgotten 
that  Jeremiah  is  gone  to  Nuneaton  to  see  his 
father,  and  that  the  murdered  man  is  the 
buck  ? " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"They  killed  the  buck  likewise.  But  what, 
ye  cowardly  varlets  1  have  ye  been  deceiving 
me  all  this  time  ?  And  thou,  youngster  1  couldst 
thou  say  nothing  to  clear  up  the  case  ?  Thou 
shalt  smart  for  it.  Methought  I  had  lost  by  a 
violent  death  the  best  servant  ever  man  had  — 
righteous,  if  there  be  no  blame  in  saying  it, 
as  the  prophet  v.-hose  name  he  beareth,  and 
brave  as  the  lion  of  Judah." 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Sir,  if  these  men  could  deceive  your  wor- 
ship for  a  moment,  they  might  deceive  me  for 


64  Examination  of 

ever.  I  could  not  guess  what  their  story  aimed 
at,  except  my  ruin.  I  am  inclined  to  lean  for 
once  toward  the  opinion  of  Master  Silas,  and 
to  believe  it  was  really  the  stolen  buck  on 
which  this  William  (if  indeed  there  is  any  truth 
at  all  in  the  story)  was  sitting." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"What  more  hast  thou  for  me  that  is  not 
enigma  or  parable  ?  " 

JOSEPH  CARNABY. 

"  I  did  not  see  the  carcass,  man's  or  beast's, 
may  it  please  your  worship,  and  I  have  re- 
cited and  can  recite  that  only  which  I  saw  and 
heard.  After  the  words  of  lugging  out  and 
breaking  it,  knives  were  drawn  accordingly. 
It  was  no  time  to  loiter  or  linger.  We  crope 
back  under  the  shadow  of  the  alders  and 
hazels  on  the  high  bank  that  bordereth  Mickle 
Meadow,  and,  making  straight  for  the  public 
road,  hastened  homeward." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Hearing  this  deposition,  dost  thou  affirm  the 
like  upon  thy  oath,  Master  Euseby  Treen,  or 
dost  thou  vary  in  aught  essential  ?  " 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  65 

EUSEBY   TREEN. 

"■  Upon  my  oath  I  do  depose  and  affirm  the 
like,  and  truly  the  identical  same  ;  and  I  will 
never  more  vary  upon  aught  essential." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  I  do  now  further  demand  of  thee  whether 
thou  knowest  anything  more  appertaining  unto 
this  business." 

EUSEBY   TREEN. 

"  Ay,  verily  ;  that  your  worship  may  never 
hold  me  for  timorsome  and  superstitious,  I  do 
furthermore  add  that  some  other  than  deer- 
stealers  was  abroad.  In  sign  whereof,  although 
it  was  the  dryest  and  clearest  night  of  the  season, 
my  jerkin  was  damp  inside  and  outside  when  I 
reached  my  house-door." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  warrant  thee,  Euseby,  the  damp  began 
not  at  the  outside.  A  word  in  thy  ear  —  Lucifer 
was  thy  tapster,  I  trow." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Irreverent  swine  !  hast  no  awe  nor  shame  ? 
Thou    hast    aggravated    thy    offence,     William 
Shakspeare,  by  thy  foul-mouthedness." 
5 


66  Examination  of 

SIR   SILAS. 

"  I  must  remind  your  worship  that  he  not 
only  has  committed  this  iniquity  afore,  but  hath 
pawed  the  puddle  he  made,  and  relapsed  into  it 
after  due  caution  and  reproof.  God  forbid  that 
what  he  spake  against  me,  out  of  the  gall  of  his 
proud  stomach,  should  move  me.  I  defy  him, 
a  low,  ignorant  wretch,  a  rogue  and  vagabond, 

a  thief    and    cut-throat,    a ^  monger  and 

mutton-eater." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEAP.E. 

"  Your  worship  doth  hear  the  learned  clerk's 
testimony  in  my  behalf.  '  Out  of  the  mouth  of 
babes  and  sucklings  '  —  " 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"Silas,  the  youth  has  failings  —  a  madcap  ; 
but  he  is  pious." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"Alas,  no,  sir!  Would  I  were!  But  Sir 
Silas,  like  the  prophet,  came  to  curse,  and  was 
forced  to  bless  me,  even  me,  a  sinner,  a  mutton- 
eater  I  " 

*  Here  the  manuscript  is  blotted  ;  but  the  probability 
is  that  it  was  fishmonger,  rather  than  ironmonger,  fish- 
mongers having  always  been  notorious  cheats  and  liars. 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  6y 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Thou  urgedst  him.  He  beareth  no  ill-will 
toward  thee.  Thou  knewedst,  I  suspect,  that 
the  blackness  in  his  mouth  proceeded  from  a 
natural  cause." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"The  Lord  is  merciful  I  I  was  brought 
hither  in  jeopardy ;  I  shall  return  in  joy. 
Whether  my  innocence  be  declared  or  other- 
wise, my  piety  and  knowledge  will  be  forwarded 
and  increased ;  for  your  worship  will  conde- 
scend, even  from  the  judgment-seat,  to  enlighten 
the  ignorant  where  a  soul  shall  be  saved  or  lost. 
And  I,  even  I,  may  trespass  a  moment  on  your 
courtesy.  I  quail  at  the  words  natural  cause. 
Be  there  any  such  r ' 

SIR   THOMAS. 

'*  Youth  I  I  never  thought  thee  so  staid. 
Thou  hast,  for  these  many  months,  been  repre- 
sented unto  me  as  one  dissolute  and  light,  much 
given  unto  mummeries  and  mysteries,  wakes  and 
carousals,  cudgel-fighters  and  mountebanks  and 
wanton  women.  They  do  also  represent  of  thee 
—  I  hope  it  may  be  without  foundation — that 
thou  enactest  the  parts,  not  simply  of  foresters 


68  Examination  of 

and  fairies,  girls  in  the  green-sickness  and  friars, 
lawyers  and  outlaws,  but  likewise,  having  small 
reverence  for  station,  of  kings  and  queens, 
knights  and  privy-counsellors,  in  all  their  glory. 
It  hath  been  whispered,  moreover,  and  the 
testimony  of  these  two  witnesses  doth  appear  in 
some  measure  to  countenance  and  confirm  it, 
that  thou  hast  at  divers  times  this  last  summer 
been  seen  and  heard  alone,  inasmuch  as  human 
eye  may  discover,  on  the  narrow  slip  of  green- 
sward between  the  Avon  and  the  chancel,  dis- 
torting thy  body  like  one  possessed,  and  uttering 
strange  language,  like  unto  incantation.  This, 
however,  cometh  not  before  me.  Take  heed  ! 
take  heed  unto  thy  ways  ;  there  are  graver 
things  in  law  even  than  homicide  and  deer- 
stealing." 

SIR  SILAS. 

*'  And  strong  against  him.  Folks  have  been 
consumed  at  the  stake  for  pettier  felonies  and 
upon  weaker  evidence." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  To  that  anon." 

William  Shakspeare  did  hold  down  his  head, 
answering  nought.  And  Sir  Thomas  spake 
again  unto  him,  as  one  mild  and  fatherly,  if  so 
be  that  such  a  word  may  be  spoken  of  a  knight 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  69 

and  parliament-man.  And  these  are  the  words 
he  spake  :  — 

"  Reason  and  ruminate  with  thyself  now. 
To  pass  over  and  pretermit  the  danger  of  repre- 
senting the  actions  of  the  others,  and  mainly  of 
lawyers  and  churchmen,  the  former  of  whom  do 
pardon  no  offences,  and  the  latter  those  only 
against  God,  having  no  warrant  for  more,  canst 
thou  believe  it  innocent  to  counterfeit  kings  and 
queens  ?  Supposest  thou  that  if  the  impression 
of  their  faces  on  a  farthing  be  felonious  and 
rope-worthy,  the  imitation  of  head  and  body, 
voice  and  bearing,  plume  and  strut,  crown  and 
mantle,  and  everything  else  that  maketh  them 
royal  and  glorious,  be  aught  less  ?  Perpend, 
young  man,  perpend  1  Consider,  who  among 
inferior  mortals  shall  imitate  them  becomingly  ? 
Dreamest  thou  they  talk  and  act  like  checkmen 
at  Banbury  fair?  How  can  thy  shallow  brain 
suffice  for  their  vast  conceptions  ?  How  darest 
thou  say,  as  they  do  :  '  Hang  this  fellow  ;  quar- 
ter that  ;  flay  ;  mutilate  ;  stab  ;  shoot ;  press  ; 
hook  ;  torture  ;  burn  alive  '  ?  These  are  roy- 
alties. Who  appointed  thee  to  such  office  r 
The  Holy  Ghost?  He  alone  can  confer  it; 
but  when  wert  thou  anointed?" 

William  was  so  zealous  in  storing  up  these 
verities,  that  he  looked  as  though  he  were  un- 


70  Examination  of 

conscious  that  the  pouring-out  was  over.  He 
started,  which  he  had  not  done  before,  at  the 
voice  of  Master  Silas ;  but  soon  recovered  his 
complacency,  and  smiled  with  much  serenity  at 
being  called  low-minded  varlet. 

"Low-minded  varlet  I"  cried  Master  Silas, 
most  contemptuously,  "dost  thou  imagine  that 
king  calleth  king,  like  thy  chums,  filcher  and 
fibber,  whirligig  and  nincompoop  )  Instead  of 
this  low  vulgarity  and  sordid  idleness,  ending  in 
nothing,  they  throw  at  one  another  such  fellows 
as  thee  by  the  thousand,  and  when  they  have 
cleared  the  land,  render  God  thanks  and  make 
peace." 

Willy  did  now  sigh  out  his  ignorance  of  these 
matters  ;  and  he  sighed,  mayhap,  too,  at  the  re- 
collection of  the  peril  he  had  run  into,  and  had 
ne'er  a  word  on  the  nail.* 

The  bowels  of  Sir  Thomas  waxed  tenderer 
and  tenderer  ;  and  he  opened  his  lips  in  this 
fashion :  — 

"  Stripling  1  I  would  now  communicate  unto 
thee,  on  finding  thee  docile  and  assentaneous, 
the  instruction  thou  needest  on  the  signification 
of  the  words  natural  cause,  if  thy  duty  toward 
thy  neighbour  had  been  first  instilled  into  thee." 

2  On  the  nail  appears  to  be  intended  to  express  ready 
payment. 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  yi 

Whereupon  Master  Silas  did  interpose,  for 
the  dinner  hour  was  drawing  nigh. 

"We  cannot  do  all  at  once,"  quoth  he. 
"  Coming  out  of  order,  it  might  harm  him. 
Malt  before  hops,  the  world  over,  or  the  beer 
muddies." 

But  Sir  Thomas  was  not  to  be  pricked  out  of 
his  form  even  by  so  shrewd  a  pricker ;  and  like 
unto  one  who  heareth  not,  he  continued  to  look 
most  graciously  on  the  homely  vessel  that  stood 
ready  to  receive  his  wisdom. 

"  Thy  mind,"  said  he,  "  being  unprepared  for 
higher  cogitations,  and  the  groundwork  and 
religious  duty  not  being  well  rammer-beaten 
and  flinted,  I  do  pass  over  this  supererogatory 
point,  and  inform  thee  rather,  that  bucks  and 
swans  and  herons  have  something  in  their  very 
names  announcing  them  of  knightly  appurte- 
nance ;  and  (God  forfend  that  evil  do  ensue 
therefrom  !)  that  a  goose  on  the  common,  or  a 
game-cock  on  the  loft  of  a  cottager  or  villager, 
may  be  seized,  bagged,  and  abducted,  with  far 
less  offence  to  the  laws.  In  a  buck  there  is 
something  so  gainly  and  so  grand,  he  treadeth 
the  earth  with  such  ease  and  such  agility,  he 
abstaineth  from  all  other  animals  with  such 
punctilious  avoidance,  one  would  imagine  God 
created  him  when  he  created  knighthood.     In 


72  Examination  of 

the  swan  there  is  such  purity,  such  coldness  is 
there  in  the  element  he  inhabiteth,  such  solitude 
of  station,  that  verily  he  doth  remind  me  of  the 
Virgin  Queen  herself.  Of  the  heron  I  have  less 
to  say,  not  having  him  about  me ;  but  I  never 
heard  his  lordly  croak  without  the  conceit  that 
it  resembled  a  chancellor's  or  a  primate's. 

"  I  do  perceive,  William  Shakspeare,  thy 
compunction  and  contrition." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  was  thinking,  may  it  please  your  worship, 
of  the  game-cock  and  the  goose,  having  but 
small  notion  of  herons.  This  doctrine  of  ab- 
duction, please  your  worship,  hath  been  alway 
inculcated  by  the  soundest  of  our  judges. 
Would  they  had  spoken  on  other  points  with 
the  same  clearness.  How  many  unfortunates 
might  thereby  have  been  saved  from  crossing 
the  Cordilleras  1 "  ^ 

^  The  Cordilleras  are  mountains,  we  know,  running 
through  South  America,  Perhaps  a  pun  was  intended  ; 
or  possibly  it  might,  in  the  age  of  Elizabeth,  have  been  a 
vulgar  term  for  hatt_^ing,  although  we  find  no  trace  of  the 
expression  in  other  books.  We  have  no  clue  to  guide  us 
here.  It  might  be  suggested  that  Shakspeare,  who  shines 
little  in  geographical  knowledge,  fancied  the  Cordilleras 
to  extend  into  North  America,  had  convicts  in  his  time 
been  transported  to  those  colonies.  Certainly,  many  ad- 
venturers and  desperate  men  went  thither. 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc,  73 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Ay,  ay !  they  have  been  fain  to  fly  the 
country  at  last,  thither  or  elsewhere." 

And  then  did  Sir  Thomas  call  unto  him 
Master  Silas,  and  say, — 

"■  Walk,  we  into  the  bay-window.  And  thou 
mayest  come,  Ephraim." 

And  when  we  were  there  together,  I,  Master 
Silas,  and  his  worship,  did  his  worship  say  unto 
the  chaplain,  but  oftener  looking  toward  me,  — 

'M  am  not  ashamed  to  avouch  that  it  goeth 
against  me  to  hang  this  young  fellow,  richly  as 
the  offence  in  its  own  nature  doth  deserve  it, 
he  talketh  so  reasonably  ;  not  indeed  so  reason- 
ably, but  so  like  unto  what  a  reasonable  man 
may  listen  to  and  reflect  on.  There  is  so  much, 
too,  of  compassion  for  others  in  hard  cases,  and 
something  so  very  near  in  semblance  to  inno- 
cence itself  in  that  airy  swing  of  lighthearted- 
ness  about  him.  I  cannot  fix  my  eyes  (as  one 
would  say)  on  the  shifting  and  sudden  shade- 
and-shine,  which  cometh  back  to  me,  do  what  I 
will,  and  mazes  me  in  a  manner,  and  blinks 
me." 

At  this  juncture  I  was  ready  to  fall  upon  the 
ground  before  his  worship,  and  clasp  his  knees 
for  Willy's  pardon.     But  he  had  so  many  points 


74  Examination  of 

about  him,  that  I  feared  to  discompose  'em,  and 
thus  make  bad  worse.  Besides  which,  Master 
Silas  left  me  but  scanty  space  for  good  resolu- 
tions, crying,  — 

"  He  may  be  committed,  to  save  time.  Af- 
terward he  may  be  sentenced  to  death,  or  he 
may  not." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"'Twere  shame  upon  me  were  he  not; 
't  were  indication  that  I  acted  unadvisedly  in 
the  commitment." 

SIR  SILAS. 

"  The  penalty  of  the  law  may  be  commuted, 
if  expedient,  on  application  to  the  fountain  of 
mercy  in  London." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Maybe,  Silas,  those  shall  be  standing  round 
the  fount  of  mercy  who  play  in  idleness  and 
wantonness  with  its  waters,  and  let  them  not 
flow  widely,  nor  take  their  natural  course. 
Dutiful  gallants  may  encompass  it,  and  it  may 
linger  among  the  flowers  they  throw  into  it, 
and  never  reach  the  parched  lip  on  the 
wayside. 

"  These  are  homely  thoughts  —  thoughts  from 
a-field,  thoughts  for  the  study  and  housekeeper's 
room.     But  whenever  I  have  given  utterance 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  75 

unto  them,  as  my  heart  hath  often  prompted 
me  with  beatings  at  the  breast,  my  hearers 
seemed  to  bear  toward  me  more  true  and 
kindly  affection  than  my  richest  fancies  and 
choicest  phraseologies  could  purchase, 

"  'T  were  convenient  to  bethink  thee,  should 
any  other  great  man's  park  have  been  robbed 
this  season,  no  judge  upon  the  bench  will  back  my 
recommendation  for  mercy.  And,  indeed,  how 
could  I  expect  it  ?  Things  may  soon  be 
brought  to  such  a  pass  that  their  lordships  shall 
scarcely  find  three  haunches  each  upon  the 
circuit." 

"Well,  Sir  1 "  quoth  Master  Silas,  "you 
have  a  right  to  go  on  in  your  own  vv'ay.  Make 
him  only  give  up  the  girl." 

Here  Sir  Thomas  reddened  with  righteous  in- 
dignation, and  answered,  — 

"  I  cannot  think  it  !  such  a  stripling  !  poor, 
penniless  ;  it  must  be  some  one  else." 

And  now  Master  Silas  did  redden  in  his  turn, 
redder  than  Sir  Thomas,  and  first  asked  me,  — 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  stare  at  ?" 

And  then  asked  his  worship,  — 

"Who  should  it  be  if  not  the  rogue?"  and 
his  lips  turned  as  blue  as  a  blue-bell. 

Then  Sir  Thomas  left  the  window,  and  again 
took  his  chair,  and  having  stood  so  long  on  his 


^6  Examination  of 

legs,  groaned  upon  it  to  ease  him.  His  worship 
scowled  with  all  his  might,  and  looked  exceed- 
ingly wroth  and  vengeful  at  the  culprit,  and 
said  unto  him,  — 

"  Harkye,  knave  I  I  have  been  conferring 
with  my  learned  clerk  and  chaplain  in  what 
manner  I  may,  with  the  least  severity,  rid  the 
county  (which  thou  disgracest)  of  thee." 

William  Shakspeare  raised  up  his  eyes, 
modestly  and  fearfully,  and  said  slowly  these 
few  words,  which,  had  they  been  a  better  and 
nobler  man's,  would  deserve  to  be  written  in 
letters  of  gold.  I,  not  having  that  art  nor  sub- 
stance, do  therefore  write  them  in  my  largest 
and  roundest  character,  and  do  leave  space  about 
'em,  according  to  their  rank  and  dignity  : — 

"  Worshipful  sir  I 

"  A  WORD  IN  THE  EAR  IS  OFTEN  AS  GOOD  AS  A 
HALTER  UNDER  IT,  AND  SAVES  THE  GROAT.'" 

"Thou  discoursest  well,"  said  Sir  Thomas, 
"  but  others  can  discourse  well  likewise.  Thou 
shalt  avoid  ;   I  am  resolute." 

"WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  supplicate  your  honour  to  impart  unto 
me,  in  your  wisdom,  the  mode  and  means 
whereby  I  may  surcease  to  be  disgraceful  to  the 
county." 


JVj'Iliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  yy 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  I  am  not  bloody-minded. 

*'  First,  thou  shalt  have  the  fairest  and  fullest 
examination.  Much  hath  been  deposed  against 
thee  ;  something  may  come  forth  for  thy  ad- 
vantage. I  vi'ill  not  thy  death  ;  thou  shalt  not 
die. 

"The  laws  have  loopholes,  like  castles,  both 
to  shoot  from  and  to  let  folks  down." 

SIR  SILAS. 

"That  pointed  ear  would  look  the  better 
for  paring,  and  that  high  forehead  can  hold 
many  letters." 

Whereupon  did  William,  poor  lad  I  turn 
deadly  pale,  but  spake  not. 

Sir  Thomas  then  abated  a  whit  of  his  severity, 
and  said,  staidly,  — 

"Testimony  doth  appear  plain  and  positive 
against  thee ;  nevertheless  am  I  minded  and 
prompted  to  aid  thee  myself,  in  disclosing  and 
unfolding  what  thou  couldst  not  of  thine  own 
wits,  in  furtherance  of  thine  own  defence. 

"  One  witness  is  persuaded  and  assured  of 
the  evil  spirit  having  been  abroad,  and  the  punt 
appeared  unto  him  diversely  from  what  it  ap- 
peared unto  the  other." 


yS  Examination  of 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  If  the  evil  spirit  produced  one  appearance, 
he  might  have  produced  all,  with  deference  to 
the  graver  judgment  of  your  w^orship. 

"  If  what  seemed  punt  was  devil,  what 
seemed  buck  might  have  been  devil  too ;  nay, 
more  easily,  the  horns  being  forthcoming. 

"Thieves  and  reprobates  do  resemble  him 
more  nearly  still  ;  and  it  would  be  hard  if  he 
could  not  make  free  with  their  bodies,  when  he 
has  their  souls  already." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  But,  then,  those  voices  I  and  thou  thyself. 
Will  Shakspeare  I  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  O  might  I  kiss  the  hand  of  my  deliverer, 
whose  clear-sightedness  throweth  such  manifest 
and  plenary  light  upon  my  innocence  1  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

'♦  How  so  >  What  light,  in  God's  name, 
have  I  thrown  upon  it  as  yet  ?  " 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Oh  !  those  voices  !  those  faeries  and  spirits  I 
whence  came  they  ?     None  can  deal  with  'em 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  79 

but  the  devil,  the  parson,  and  witches.  And 
does  not  the  devil  oftentimes  take  the  very 
form,  features,  and  habiliments  of  knights,  and 
bishops,  and  other  good  men,  to  lead  them  into 
temptation  and  destroy  them  ?  or  to  injure  their 
good  name,  in  failure  of  seduction  ? 

'•  He  is  sure  of  the  wicked  ;  he  lets  them  go 
their  ways  out  of  hand. 

"  I  think  your  worship  once  delivered  some 
such  observation,  in  more  courtly  guise,  which 
I  would  not  presume  to  ape.  If  it  was  not 
your  worship,  it  was  our  glorious  lady  the 
queen,  or  the  wise  Master  Walsingham,  or  the 
great  Lord  Cecil.  I  may  have  marred  and 
broken  it,  as  sluts  do  a  pancake,  in  the  turning." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Why  1  ay,  indeed,  I  had  occasion  once  to 
remark  as  much." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

**  So  have  I  heard  in  many  places  ;  although 
I  was  not  present  when  Matthew  Atterend 
fought  about  it  for  the  honour  of  Kineton 
hundred." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Fought  about  it  I  " 


8o  Examination  of 

"WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  As  your  honour  recollects.  Not  but  on 
other  occasions  he  would  have  fought  no  less 

bravely  for  the  queen." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  We  must  get  thee  through,  were  it  only  for 
thy  memory,  — the  most  precious  gift  among  the 
mental  powers  that  Providence  hath  bestowed 
upon  us.  I  had  half  forgotten  the  thing  myself. 
Thou  mayest,  in  time,  take  thy  satchel  for  Lon- 
don, and  aid  good  old  Master  Holingshed. 

*'  We  must  clear  thee.  Will  I  I  am  slow  to 
surmise  that  there  is  blood  upon  thy  hands  I  " 

His  worship's  choler  had  all  gone  down 
again  ;  and  he  sat  as  cool  and  comfortable  as 
a  man  sitteth  to  be  shaved.  Then  called  he 
on  Euseby  Treen,  and  said,  — 

"  Euseby  Treen  !  tell  us  whether  thou  ob- 
servedst  anything  unnoticed  or  unsaid  by  the 
last  witness." 

EUSEBY  TREEN. 

"  One  thing  only,  sir  I 

**  When  they  had  passed  the  water  an  owlet 
hooted  after  them  ;  and  methought,  if  they  had 
any  fear  of  God  before  their  eyes  they  would 
have  turned  back,  he  cried  so  lustily." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  8i 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Sir,  I  cannot  forbear  to  take  the  owlet  out 
of  your  mouth.  He  knocks  them  all  on  the 
head  like  so  many  mice.  Likely  story  I  One 
fellow  hears  him  cry  lustily,  the  other  doth  not 
hear  him  at  all  1  " 

JOSEPH  CARNABY. 

"  Not  hear  him  I  A  body  might  have  heard 
him  at  Barford  or  Sherbourne." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Why  didst  not  name  him  ?  Canst  not  an- 
swer me  ? " 

JOSEPH  CARNABY. 

''He  doubted  whether  punt  were  punt;  I 
doubted  whether  owlet  were  owlet,  after  Lu- 
cifer was  away  from  the  roll-call. 

"  We  say,  Speak  the  truth  and  shame  the  devil; 
but  shaming  him  is  one  thing,  your  honour,  and 
facing  him  another  !  I  have  heard  owlets,  but 
never  owlet  like  him." 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"The  Lord  be  praised  !  All,  at  last,  a-run- 
ning  to  my  rescue. 

"Owlet,  indeed  I  Your  worship  may  have 
remembered  in  an  ancient  book  —  indeed,  what 

6 


82  Examination  of 

book  is  so  ancient  that  your  worship  doth  not 
remember  it?  —  a  book  printed  by  Doctor 
Faustus  —  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Before  he  dealt  with  the  devil  ?" 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Not  long  before,  it  being  the  very  book 
that  made  the  devil  think  it  worth  his  while 
to  deal  with  him." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  What  chapter  thereof  wouldst  thou  recall 
unto  my  recollection  ?  " 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"That  concerning  owls,  with  the  grim  print 
afore  it. 

"  Doctor  Faustus,  the  wise  doctor,  who 
knew  other  than  owls  and  owlets,  knew  the 
tempter  in  that  form.  Faustus  was  not  your 
man  for  fancies  and  figments  ;  and  he  tells  us 
that,  to  his  certain  knowledge,  it  was  verily  an 
owl's  face  that  whispered  so  much  mischief  in 
the  ear  of  our  first  parent. 

"  One  plainly  sees  it,  quoth  Doctor  Faustus, 
under  that  gravity  which  in  human  life  we  call 
dignity,   but  of  which  we  read  nothing  in  the 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  83 

Gospel.  We  despise  the  hangman,  we  detest 
the  hanged  ;  and  yet,  saith  Duns  Scotus,  could 
we  turn  aside  the  heavy  curtain,  or  stand  high 
enough  a-tiptoe  to  peep  through  its  chinks  and 
crevices,  we  should  perhaps  find  these  two  char- 
acters to  stand  justly  among  the  most  innocent 
in  the  drama.  He  who  blinketh  the  eyes  of  the 
poor  wretch  about  to  die  doeth  it  out  of  mercy  ; 
those  who  preceded  him,  bidding  him  in  the 
garb  of  justice  to  shed  the  blood  of  his  fellow- 
man,  had  less  or  none.  So  they  hedge  well 
their  own  grounds,  what  care  they  ?  For  this 
do  they  catch  at  stakes  and  thorns,  at  quick  and 
rotten  —  " 

Here  Master  Silas  interrupted  the  discourse 
of  the  devil's  own  doctor,  delivered  and  printed 
by  him  before  he  was  the  devil's,  to  which  his 
worship  had  listened  very  attentively  and  de- 
lightedly. But  Master  Silas  could  keep  his 
temper  no  longer,  and  cried,  fiercely,  "  Seditious 
sermonizer  1  hold  thy  peace,  or  thou  shalt  an- 
swer for  't  before  convocation." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Silas  I  thou  dost  not  approve,  then,  the  doc- 
trine of  this  Doctor  Duns  ?  " 

SIR  SILAS. 

"  Heretical  Rabbi  1 " 


84  Examination  of 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  If  bvo  of  a  trade  can  never  agree,  yet  surely 
two  of  a  name  may." 

SIR  SILAS. 

"  Who  dares  call  me  heretical  }  who  dares 
call  me  rabbi  ?  who  dares  call  me  Scotus  t 
Spider  I  spider  I  yea,  thou  hast  one  corner 
left  ;  I  espy  thee,  and  my  broom  shall  reach 
thee  yet." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  perceive  that  Master  Silas  doth  verily 
believe  I  have  been  guilty  of  suborning  the 
witnesses,  at  least  the  last,  the  best  man  (if  any 
difference)  of  the  two.  No,  sir,  no.  If  my 
family  and  friends  have  united  their  wits  and 
money  for  this  purpose,  be  the  crime  of  per- 
verted justice  on  their  heads  !  They  injure 
whom  they  intended  to  serve.  Improvident 
men  1  —  if  the  young  may  speak  thus  of  the 
elderly  ;  could  they  imagine  to  themselves  that 
your  worship  was  to  be  hoodwinked  and  led 
astray  ?  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  No  man  shall  ever  dare  to  hoodwink  me, 
to  lead  me  astray,  —  no,  nor  lead  me  anywise. 
Powerful  defence  !  Heyday  !  Sit  quiet.  Master 
Treen  1  —  Euseby    Treen  I     dost     hear    me  ? 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  85 

Clench  thy  fist  again,  sirrah  1  and  I  clap  thee 
in  the  stocks. 

"•  Joseph  Carnaby  I  do  not  scratch  thy  breast 
nor  thy  pate  before  me." 

Now  Joseph  had  not  only  done  that  in  his 
wrath,  but  had  unbuckled  his  leathern  garter, 
fit  instrument  for  strife  and  blood,  and  per- 
adventure  would  have  smitten,  had  not  the 
knight,  with  magisterial  authority,  interposed. 

His  worship  said  unto  him,  gravely,  — 
"  Joseph  Carnaby  !  Joseph  Carnaby  I  hast  thou 
never  read  the  words  '  Put  up  thy  sword  ' )  " 

"  Subornation  I  your  worship  1 "  cried  Master 
Joe.  "  The  fellow  hath  ne'er  a  shilling  in 
leather  or  till,  and  many  must  go  to  suborn  one 
like  me." 

"  I  do  believe  it  of  thee/'  said  Sir  Thomas  ; 
"  but  patience,  man  !  patience  !  he  rather  tended 
toward  exculpating  thee.  Ye  have  far  to  walk 
for  dinner  ;  ye  may  depart." 

They  went  accordingly. 

Then  did  Sir  Thomas  say,  "These  are  hot 
men,  Silas  1  " 

And  Master  Silas  did  reply  unto  him,  — 

"There  are  brands  that  would  set  fire  to  the 
bulrushes  in  the  mill-pool.  I  know  these  twain 
for  quiet  folks,  having  coursed  with  them  over 
Wincott. 


86  Examination  of 

Sir  Thomas  then  said  unto  William,  "  It 
behooveth  thee  to  stand  clear  of  yon  Joseph, 
unless  when  thou  mayest  call  to  thy  aid  the 
Matthew  Atterend  thou  speakest  of.  He  did 
then  fight  valiantly,  eh  } " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"His  cause  fought  valiantly  ;  his  fist  but 
seconded  it.  He  won, — proving  the  golden 
words  to  be  no  property  of  our  lady's,  although 
her  Highness  hath  never  disclaimed  them," 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"■  What  art  thou  saying  ? " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  So  I  heard  from  a  preacher  at  Oxford,  who 
had  preached  at  Easter  in  the  chapel-royal  of 
Westminster." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

**  Thou  I  why,  how  could  that  happen  ?  Ox- 
ford 1  chapel-royal  I  " 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  And  to  whom  I  said  (your  worship  will  for- 
give my  forwardness),  •  /  have  the  honour,  sir,  to 
live  within  two  measured  miles  of  the  very  Sir 
Thomas  Lucy  who  spake  that.'     And  I  vow  I 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  87 

said  it  without  any  hope  or  belief  that  he  would 
invite  me,  as  he  did,  to  dine  with  him  thereupon." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  There  be  nigh  upon  three  miles  betwixt 
this  house  and  Stratford  bridge-end." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

**  I  dropt  a  mile  in  my  pride  and  exultation, 
God  forgive  me  I  I  would  not  conceal  my 
fault." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Wonderful  1  that  a  preacher  so  learned  as 
to  preach  before  majesty  in  the  chapel-royal 
should  not  have  caught  thee  tripping  over  a 
whole  lawful  mile,  —  a  good  third  of  the  distance 
between  my  house  and  the  cross-roads.  This 
is  incomprehensible  in  a  scholar." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  God  willed  that  he  should  become  my 
teacher,  and  in  the  bowels  of  his  mercy  hid 
my  shame." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  How  earnest  thou  into  the  converse  of  such 
eminent  and  ghostly  men  ? " 


Examinaiion  of 


WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 


*'  How,  indeed  ?  —  everything  against  me  I  " 
He  sighed,  and  entered  into  a  long  discourse, 
which  Master  Silas  would  at  sundry  times  have 
interrupted,  but  that  Sir  Thomas  more  than  once 
frowned  upon  him,  even  as  he  had  frowned 
heretofore  on  young  Will,  who  thus  began  and 
continued  his  narration  :  — 

"  Hearing  the  preacher  preach  at  Saint  Mary's 
(for  being  about  my  father's  business  on  Satur- 
day, and  not  choosing  to  be  a-horseback  on  Sun- 
days, albeit  time-pressed,  I  footed  it  to  Oxford 
for  my  edification  on  the  Lord's  day,  leaving  the 
sorrel  with  Master  Hal  Webster  of  the  Tankard 
and  Unicorn)  —  hearing  him  preach,  as  I  was 
saying,  before  the  University  in  St.  Mary's 
Church,  and  hearing  him  use  moreover  the  very 
words  that  Matthew  fought  about,  I  was  im- 
patient (God  forgive  me  1)  for  the  end  and  con- 
summation, and  I  thought  I  never  should  hear 
those  precious  words  that  ease  every  man's 
heart,  *  Now  to  conclude.''  However,  come 
they  did.  I  hurried  out  among  the  foremost, 
and  thought  the  congratulations  of  the  other 
doctors  and  dons  would  last  for  ever.  He 
walked  sharply  off,  and  few  cared  to  keep  his 
pace,  —  for  they  are  lusty  men  mostly  ;  and  spite- 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  89 

ful  bad  women  had  breathed^  in  the  faces  of 
some  among  them,  or  the  gowns  had  got  between 
their  legs.  For  my  part,  I  was  not  to  be 
baliied  ;  so,  tripping  on  aside  him,  I  looked  in 
his  face  askance.  Whether  he  misgave  or 
how,  he  turned  his  eyes  downward.  No  mat- 
ter—  have  him  I  would.  I  licked  my  lips  and 
smacked  them  loud  and  smart,  and  scarcely 
venturing  to  nod,  I  gave  my  head  such  a  sort 
of  motion  as  dace  and  roach  give  an  angler's 
quill  when  they  begin  to  bite.  And  this  fairly 
hooked  him." 

"'Young  gentleman!'  said  he,  'where  is 
your  gown  ? ' 

"  '  Reverend  sir  1  '  said  I,  'I   am  unworthy 

to  wear  one.' 

1  In  that  age  there  was  prevalent  a  sort  of  cholera,  on 
which  Fracastorius,  half  a  century  before,  wrote  a  Latin 
poem,  employing  the  graceful  nymphs  of  Homer  and 
Hesiod,  somewhat  disguised,  in  the  drudgery  of  pounding 
certain  barks  and  minerals.  An  article  in  the  Impeach- 
ment of  Cardinal  Wolsey  accuses  him  of  breathing  in  the 
king's  face,  knowing  that  he  was  affected  with  this 
cholera.  It  was  a  great  assistant  to  the  Reformation,  by 
removing  some  of  the  most  vigorous  champions  that  op- 
posed it.  In  the  Holy  College  it  was  followed  by  the 
sweating  sickness,  which  thinned  it  very  sorely ;  and 
several  even  of  God's  vicegerents  were  laid  under  tribula- 
tion by  it.  Among  the  chambers  of  the  Vatican  it  hung 
for  ages,  and  it  crowned  the  labours  of  Pope  Leo  XII.,  of 
blessed  memory,  with  a  crown  somewhat  uneasy. 


90  Examination  of 

"  *  A  proper  youth,  nevertheless,  and  mightily 
well-spoken  I '  he  was  pleased  to  say. 

"  '  Your  reverence  hath  given  me  heart,  which 
failed  me,'  was  my  reply.  '  Ah  !  your  rev- 
erence 1  those  words  about  the  devil  were  spicy 
words ;  but,  under  favour,  I  do  know  the 
brook-side  they  sprang  and  flowered  by.  'T  is 
just  where  it  runs  into  Avon ;  't  is  called 
Hogbrook.' 

"  '  Right  I '  quoth  he,  putting  his  hand  gently 
on  my  shoulder  ;  '  but  if  I  had  thought  it  need- 
ful to  say  so  in  my  sermon,  I  should  have  af- 
fronted the  seniors  of  the  University,  since 
many  claim  them,  and  some  peradventure  would 
fain  transpose  them  into  higher  places,  and  giv- 
ing up  all  right  and  title  to  them,  would  accept 
in  lieu  thereof  the  poor  recompense  of  a 
mitre.' 

"  I  wished  (unworthy  wish  for  a  Sunday  !)  I 
had  Matthew  Atterend  in  the  midst  of  them. 
He  would  have  given  them  skulls  mitre-fash- 
ioned, if  mitres  are  cloven  now  as  we  see 
them  on  ancient  monuments.  Matt  is  your 
milliner  for  gentles,  who  think  no  more  harm  of 
purloining  rich  saws  in  a  mitre  than  lane-born 
boys  do  of  embezzling  hazel-nuts  in  a  woollen 
cap.  I  did  not  venture  to  expound  or  suggest 
my  thoughts,  but  feeling  my  choler  rise  higher 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  91 

and  higher,    I  craved  permission  to  make  my 
obeisance  and  depart. 

"  '  Where  dost  thou  lodge,  young  man  ? '  said 
the  preacher. 

"  '  At  the  public,'  said  I,  'where  my  father 
customarily  lodgeth.  There,  too,  is  a  mitre  of 
the  old  fashion,  swinging  on  the  sign-post  in  the 
middle  of  the  street.' 

"'Respectable  tavern  enough!'  quoth  the 
reverend  doctor ;  '  and  worthy  men  do  turn  in 
there,  even  quality,  —  Master  Davenant,  Master 
Powel,  Master  Whorwood,  aged  and  grave  men. 
But  taverns  are  Satan's  chapels,  and  are  always 
well  attended  on  the  Lord's  day,  to  twit  him. 
Hast  thou  no  friend  in  such  a  city  as  Oxford  ?' 

"  '  Only  the  landlady  of  the  Mitre,'  said  I. 

"  '  A  comely  woman,'  quoth  he,  '  but  too 
young  for  business  by  half. 

"  '  Stay  thou  with  me  to-day,  and  fare  fru- 
gally, but  safely. 

"  '  What  may  thy  name  be,  and  where  is  thy 
abode  ? ' 

"  *  William  Shakspeare,  of  Stratford-upon- 
Avon,  at  your  service,  sir.' 

"'  And  welcome,'  said  he;  '  thy  father  ere 
now  hath  bought  our  college  wool.  A  truly 
good  man  we  ever  found  him  ;  and  I  doubt  not 
he  hath  educated  his  son  to  follow  him  in  his 


92  Examinaiion  of 

paths.  There  is  in  the  blood  of  man,  as  in  the 
blood  of  animals,  that  which  giveth  the  temper 
and  disposition.  These  require  nurture  and 
culture.  But  what  nurture  will  turn  flint-stones 
into  garden  mould  ?  or  what  culture  rear  cab- 
bages in  the  quarries  of  Hedington  Hill  ?  To 
be  well  born  is  the  greatest  of  all  God's  primary 
blessings,  young  man,  and  there  are  many  well 
born  among  the  poor  and  needy.  Thou  art  not 
of  the  indigent  and  destitute,  who  have  great 
temptations  ;  thou  art  not  of  the  wealthy  and 
affluent,  who  have  greater  still.  God  hath 
placed  thee,  William  Shakspeare,  in  that  pleas- 
ant island,  on  one  side  whereof  are  the  sirens, 
on  the  other  the  harpies,  but  inhabiting  the 
coasts  on  the  wider  continent,  and  unable  to 
make  their  talons  felt,  or  their  voices  heard  by 
thee.  Unite  with  me  in  prayer  and  thanks- 
giving for  the  blessings  thus  vouchsafed.  We 
must  not  close  the  heart  when  the  finger  of 
God  would  touch  it.  Enough,  if  thou  sayest 
only.  My  soul,  praise  thou  the  Lord  ! '  " 

Sir  Thomas  said,  ''Amen!''  Master  Silas 
was  mute  for  the  moment,  but  then  quoth  he, 
^'I  can  say  amen  too  in  the  proper  place." 

The  knight  of  Charlecote,  who  appeared  to 
have  been  much  taken  with  this  conversation, 
then  interrogated  Willy  :  — 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  93 

"  What  farther  might  have  been  thy  discourse 
with  the  doctor  ?  or  did  he  discourse  at  all  at 
trencher-time  ?  Thou  must  have  been  very 
much  abashed  to  sit  down  at  table  with  one  who 
weareth  a  pure  lambskin  across  his  shoulder, 
and  moreover  a  pink  hood." 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Faith  !  was  I,  your  honour  I  and  could 
neither  utter  nor  gulp." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  These  are  good  signs.  Thou  hast  not  lost 
all  grace." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  With  the  encouragement  of  Dr.  Glaston — " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  And  was  it  Dr.  Glaston  ? " 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Said  I  not  so?" 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  The  learnedst  clerk  in  Christendom  !  a 
very  Friar  Bacon  1  The  Pope  offered  a  hun- 
dred marks  in  Latin  to  who  should  eviscerate 
or  evirate  him,  —  poisons  very  potent,  whereat 


94  Examination  of 

the  Italians  are  handy,  —  so  apostolic  and  despe- 
rate a  doctor  is  Doctor  Glaston  !  so  acute  in 
his  quiddities,  and  so  resolute  in  his  bearing  ! 
He  knows  the  dark  arts,  but  stands  aloof  from 
them.  Prithee,  what  were  his  words  unto 
thee  } " 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Manna,  sir,  manna  1  pure  from  the  desert !  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Ay,  but  what  spake  he?  for  most  sermons 
are  that,  and  likewise  many  conversations  after 
dinner." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  He  spake  of  the  various  races  and  qualities 
of  men,  as  before  stated  ;  but  chiefly  on  the 
elect  and  reprobate,  and  how  to  distinguish  and 
know  them." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Did  he  go  so  far  ? " 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  He  told  me  that  by  such  discussion  he 
should  say  enough  to  keep  me  constantly  out  of 
evil  company." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"See  there!  see  there!  and  yet  thou  art 
come  before  me  !     Can  nothing  warn  thee?" 


IVilliam  Shahspeare,  etc.  95 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  dare  not  dissemble,  nor  feign,  nor  hold 
aught  back,  although  it  be  to  my  confusion. 
As  well  may  I  speak  at  once  the  whole  truth  ; 
for  your  worship  could  find  it  out  if  I  abstained." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Ay,  that  I  should  indeed,  and  shortly. 
But,  come  now,  I  am  sated  of  thy  follies  and 
roguish  tricks,  and  yearn  after  the  sound  doc- 
trine of  that  pious  man.  What  expounded  the 
grave  Glaston  upon  signs  and  tokens  whereby 
ye  shall  be  known  ?  " 

"WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"Wonderful  things!  things  beyond  belief! 
'There  be  certain  men,'  quoth  he  —  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

*'  He  began  well.  This  promises.  But  why 
canst  not  thou  go  on  ? " 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"'There  be  certain  men,  who,  rubbing  one 
corner  of  the  eye,  do  see  a  peacock's  feather  at 
the  other,  and  even  fire.  We  know,  William, 
what  that  fire  is,  and  whence  it  cometh.     Those 


96  Examination  of 

wicked  men,  William,  all  have  their  marks  upon 
them,  be  it  only  a  corn,  or  a  wart,  or  a  mole,  or 
a  hairy  ear,  or  a  toe-nail  turned  inward.  Suffi- 
cient, and  more  than  sufficient  I  He  knoweth 
his  own  by  less  tokens.  There  is  not  one  of 
them  that  doth  not  sweat  at  some  secret  sin 
committed,  or  some  inclination  toward  it  un- 
snaffled. 

*'  '  Certain  men  are  there,  likewise,  who  ven- 
erate so  little  the  glorious  works  of  the  Creator 
that  I  myself  have  known  them  to  sneeze  at  the 
sun  !  Sometimes  it  was  against  their  will,  and 
they  would  gladly  have  checked  it  had  they 
been  able  ;  but  they  were  forced  to  shew  what 
they  are.  In  our  carnal  state  we  say,  What  is 
one  against  numbers  ^  In  another  we  shall 
truly  say,  What  are  numbers  against  one  ) '  " 

Sir  Thomas  did  ejaculate,  '^  Amen  !  Amen!'' 
And  then  his  lips  moved  silently,  piously,  and 
quickly  ;  and  then  said  he,  audibly  and  loudly,  — 

^^  And  make  us  at  last  true  Israelites  !  " 

After  which  he  turned  to  young  Willy,  and 
said,  anxiously,  — 

"  Hast  thou  more,  lad?  give  us  it  while  the 
Lord  strengtheneth." 

"  Sir,"  answered  Willy,  "  although  I  thought 
it  no  trouble,  on  my  return  to  the  Mitre,  to 
write  down  every  word  I  could  remember,  and 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  97 

although  few  did  then  escape  me,  yet  at  this 
present  I  can  bring  to  mind  but  scanty  sen- 
tences, and  those  so  stray  and  out  of  order  that 
they  would  only  prove  my  incapacity  for  ster- 
ling wisdom,  and  my  incontinence  of  spiritual 
treasure." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Even  that  sentence  hath  a  twang  of  the 
doctor  in  it.  Nothing  is  so  sweet  as  humility. 
The  mountains  may  descend,  but  the  valleys 
cannot  rise.  Every  man  should  know  himself. 
Come,  repeat  what  thou  canst.  I  would  fain 
have  three  or  four  more  heads." 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  know  not  whether  I  can  give  your  wor- 
ship more  than  one  other.  Let  me  try.  It  was 
when  Doctor  Glaston  was  discoursing  on  the 
protection  the  wise  and  powerful  should  afford 
to  the  ignorant  and  weak  :  — 

"  '  In  the  earlier  ages  of  mankind,  your  Greek 
and  Latin  authors  inform  you,  there  went  forth 
sundry  worthies,  men  of  might,  to  deliver,  not 
wandering  damsels,  albeit  for  those  likewise 
they  had  stowage,  but  low-conditioned  men, 
who  fell  under  the  displeasure  of  the  higher, 
and  groaned  in  thraldom  and  captivity.  And 
these  mighty  ones  were  believed  to  have  done 
7 


98  Examination  of 

such  services  to  poor  humanity  that  their  mem- 
ory grew  greater  than  they,  as  shadows  do  than 
substances  at  day-fall.  And  the  sons  and  grand- 
sons of  the  delivered  did  laud  and  magnify  those 
glorious  names  ;  and  some  in  gratitude,  and 
some  in  tribulation,  did  ascend  the  hills,  which 
appeared  unto  them  as  altars  bestrown  with 
flowers  and  herbage  for  heaven's  acceptance. 
And  many  did  go  far  into  the  quiet  groves, 
under  lofty  trees,  looking  for  whatever  was 
mightiest  and  most  protecting.  And  in  such 
places  did  they  cry  aloud  unto  the  mighty  who 
had  left  them,  "  Return !  return !  help  us ! 
help   us  !    be    blessed !  for  ever  blessed  I  " 

"  '  Vain  men  1  but  had  they  stayed  there, 
not  evil.  Out  of  gratitude,  purest  gratitude, 
rose  idolatry.  For  the  devil  sees  the  fairest, 
an'd  soils  it. 

"  '  In  these  our  days,  methinks,  whatever 
other  sins  we  may  fall  into,  such  idolatry  is  the 
least  dangerous.  For  neither  on  the  one  side 
is  there  much  disposition  for  gratitude,  nor  on 
the  other  much  zeal  to  deliver  the  innocent  and 
oppressed.  Even  this  deliverance,  although  a 
merit,  and  a  high  one,  is  not  the  highest.  For- 
giveness is  beyond  it.  Forgive,  or  ye  shall  not 
be  forgiven.  This  ye  may  do  every  day  ;  for  if 
ye  find  not  offences,  ye  feign  them  ;  and  surely 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  99 

ye  may  remove  your  own  work,  if  ye  may  re- 
remove  another's.  To  rescue  requires  more 
thought  and  wariness  ;  learn,  then,  the  easier 
lesson  first.  Afterward,  when  ye  rescue  any 
from  another's  violence,  or  from  his  own  (which 
oftentimes  is  more  dangerous,  as  the  enemies 
are  within  not  only  the  penetrals  of  his  house 
but  of  his  heart),  bind  up  his  wounds  before  ye 
send  him  on  his  way.  Should  ye  at  any  time 
overtake  the  erring,  and  resolve  to  deliver  him 
up,  I  will  tell  you  whither  to  conduct  him. 
Conduct  him  to  his  Lord  and  Master,  whose 
household  he  hath  left.  It  is  better  to  consign 
him  to  Christ  his  Saviour  than  to  man  his  mur- 
derer ;  it  is  better  to  bid  him  live  than  to  bid 
him  die.  The  one  word  our  Teacher  and  Pre- 
server said,  the  other  our  enemy  and  destroyer. 
Bring  him  back  again,  the  stray,  the  lost  one  1 
bring  him  back,  not  with  clubs  and  cudgels, 
not  with  halberts  and  halters,  but  generously 
and  gently,  and  with  the  linking  of  the  arm. 
In  this  posture  shall  God  above  smile  upon  ye  ; 
in  this  posture  of  yours  he  shall  recognize  again 
his  beloved  Son  upon  earth.  Do  ye  likewise, 
and  depart  in  peace.'  " 

William  had  ended,  and  there  was  silence  in 
the  hall  for  some  time  after,  when  Sir  Thomas 
said,  — 


i(X)  Examination  of 

"  He  spake  unto  somewhat  mean  persons, 
who  may  do  it  without  disparagement.  I  look 
for  authority,  I  look  for  doctrine,  and  find 
none  yet.  If  he  could  not  have  drawn  us  out  a 
thread  or  two  from  the  coat  of  an  apostle,  he 
might  have  given  us  a  smack  of  Augustin,  or  a 
sprig  of  Basil.  Our  older  sermons  are  headier 
than  these,  Master  Silas  !  our  new  beer  is  the 
sweeter  and  clammier,  and  wants  more  spice. 
The  doctor  hath  seasoned  his  with  pretty  wit 
enough,  to  do  him  justice,  which  in  a  sermon 
is  never  out  of  place  ;  for  if  there  be  the  bane, 
there  likewise  is  the  antidote. 

"  What  dost  thou  think  about  it.  Master 
Silas  > " 

SIR  SILAS. 

"  I  would  not  give  ten  farthings  for  ten  forios 

of  such  sermons." 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  These  words.  Master  Silas,  will  oftener  be 
quoted  than  any  others  of  thine  ;  but  rarely 
(do  I  suspect)  as  applicable  to  Doctor  Glaston. 
I  must  stick  unto  his  gown.  I  must  declare 
that,  to  my  poor  knowledge,  many  have  been 
raised  to  the  bench  of  bishops  for  less  wisdom 
and  worse  than  is  contained  in  the  few  sen- 
tences   I    have   been   commanded    by  authority 


William  Shahspeare,  etc.  loi 

to  recite.  No  disparagement  to  any  body  !  I 
know,  Master  Silas,  and  multitudes  bear  wit- 
ness, that  thou  above  most  art  a  dead  hand  at  a 
sermon." 

SIR  SILAS. 

"  Touch  my  sermons,  wilt  dare  ?" 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  Nay,  Master  Silas,  be  not  angered  ;  it  is 
courage  enough  to  hear  them." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Now,  Silas,  hold  thy  peace  and  rest  con- 
tented. He  hath  excused  himself  unto  thee, 
throwing  in  a  compliment  far  above  his  station, 
and  not  unworthy  of  Rome  or  Florence.  I  did 
not  think  him  so  ready.  Our  "Warwickshire 
lads  are  fitter  for  football  than  courtesies  ;  and, 
sooth  to  say,  not  only  the  inferior." 

His  worship  turned  from  Master  Silas  toward 
William,  and  said,  "  Brave  Willy,  thou  hast 
given  us  our  bitters  ;  we  are  ready  now  for  any 
thing  solid.     What  hast  left  ?  " 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Little  or  nothing,  sir." 


102  Examination  of 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Well,  give  us  that  little  or  nothing." 
William  Shakspeare  was  obedient  to  the  com- 
mands of  Sir  Thomas,  who  had  spoken  thus 
kindly  unto  him,  and  had  deigned  to  cast  at  him 
from  his  lordly  dish  "(as  the  Psalmist  hath  it)  a 
fragment  of  facetiousness. 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

'*  Alas,  sir  I  may  I  repeat  it  without  offence, 
it  not  being  doctrine  but  admonition,  and  meant 
for  me  only  ?  " 

*'  Speak  it  the  rather  for  that,"  quoth  Sir 
Thomas. 

Then  did  William  give  utterance  to  the  words 
of  the  preacher,  not  indeed  in  his  sermon  at  St. 
Mary's,  but  after  dinner. 

"  '  Lust  seizeth  us  in  youth,  ambition  in  mid- 
life, avarice  in  old  age  ;  but  vanity  and  pride  are 
the  besetting  sins  that  drive  the  angels  from 
our  cradle,  pamper  us  with  luscious  and  most 
unwholesome  food,  ride  our  first  stick  with  us, 
mount  our  first  horse  with  us,  wake  with  us  in 
the  morning,  dream  with  us  in  the  night,  and 
never  at  any  time  abandon  us.  In  this  world, 
beginning  with  pride  and  vanity,  we  are  de- 
livered over  from  tormentor  to  tormentor,  until 
the  worst  tormentor  of  all  taketh  absolute  pos- 


William  Shahspeare,  etc.  103 

session  of  us  for  ever,  seizing  us  at  the  mouth 
of  the  grave,  enchaining  us  in  his  own  dark  dun- 
geon, standing  at  the  door,  and  laughing  at  our 
cries.  But  the  Lord,  out  of  his  infinite  mercy, 
hath  placed  in  the  hand  of  every  man  the  helm 
to  steer  his  course  by,  pointing  it  out  with  his 
finger,  and  giving  him  strength  as  well  as  knowl- 
edge to  pursue  it. 

"  '  William  I  William  I  there  is  in  the  moral 
straits  a  current  from  right  to  wrong,  but  no  re- 
flux from  wrong  to  right ;  for  which  destination 
we  must  hoist  our  sails  aloft  and  ply  our  oars 
incessantly,  or  night  and  the  tempest  will  over- 
take us,  and  we  shall  shriek  out  in  vain  from 
the  billows,  and  irrecoverably  sink.'  " 

"  Amen  !  "  cried  Sir  Thomas  most  devoutly, 
sustaining  his  voice  long  and  loud. 

"  Open  that  casement,  good  Silas  1  the  day  is 
sultry  for  the  season  of  the  year  ;  it  approacheth 
unto  noontide.  The  room  is  close,  and  those 
blue  flies  do  make  a  strange  hubbub." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

'^  In  troth  do  they,  sir  ;  they  come  from  the 
kitchen,  and  do  savour  woundily  of  roast  goose  I 
And,  methinks  —  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  What  bethinkest  thou  ?  " 


I04  Examination  of 

■WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  The  fancy  of  a  moment,  —  a  light  and  vain 
one." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Thou  relievest  me  ;  speak  it  I  " 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"How  could  the  creatures  cast  their  coarse 
rank  odour  thus  far  ? — even  into  your  presence  I 
A  noble  and  spacious  hall  1  Charlecote,  in  my 
mind,  beats  Warwick  Castle,  and  challenges 
Kenilworth." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  The  hall  is  well  enough  ;  I  must  say  it  is 
a  noble  hall, — a  hall  for  a  queen  to  sit  down  in. 
And  I  stuffed  an  arm-chair  with  horse-hair  on 
purpose,  feathers  over  it,  swan-down  over  them 
again,  and  covered  it  with  scarlet  cloth  of 
Bruges,  five  crowns  the  short  ell.  But  her 
highness  came  not  hither  ;  she  was  taken  short ; 
she  had  a  tongue  in  her  ear." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"Where  all  is  spring,  all  is  buzz  and  murmur." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Quaint  and  solid  as  the  best  yew  hedge. 
I  marvel  at  thee.  A  knight  might  have  spoken 
it,  under  favour.     They  stopped   her   at   War- 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  105 

wick  —  to  see  what  ?  two  old  towers  that  don't 
match/  and  a  portcullis  that  (people  say)  opens 

1  Sir  Thomas  seems  to  have  been  jealous  of  these  two 
towers,  certainly  the  finest  in  England.  If  Warwick  Castle 
could  borrow  the  windows  from  Kenilworth,  it  would  be 
complete.  The  knight  is  not  very  courteous  on  its  hospi- 
tality. He  may,  perhaps,  have  experienced  it,  as  Garrick 
and  Quin  did  under  the  present  occupant's  grandfather, 
on  whom  the  title  of  Earl  of  Warwick  was  conferred  for 
the  eminent  services  he  had  rendered  to  his  country  as 
one  of  the  lords  of  the  bedchamber  to  his  Majesty  George 
the  Second.  The  verses  of  Garrick  on  his  invitation  and 
visit  are  remembered  by  many.     Quin's  are  less  known. 

He  shewed  us  Guy's  pot,  but  the  soup  he  forgot ; 

Not  a  meal  did  his  lordship  allow. 
Unless  we  gnaw'd  o'er  the  blade-bone  of  the  boar, 

Or  the  rib  of  the  famous  Dtcn  Cow. 

When  Nevile  the  great  Earl  of  Warwick  lived  here, 

Three  oxen  for  breakfast  were  slain, 
And  strangers  invited  to  sports  and  good  cheer. 

And  invited  again  and  again. 

This  earl  is  in  purse  or  in  spirit  so  low, 

That  he  with  no  oxen  will  feed  'em ; 
And  all  of  the  former  great  doings  we  know 

Is,  he  gives  us  a  book  and  we  read  'em. 

G.A.RRICK. 

Stale  peers  are  but  tough  morsels,  and  't  were  well 
If  we  had  found  ihtfres/i  more  eatable ; 
Garrick  !  I  do  not  say  't  were  well  for  /lim, 
For  we  had  pluck'd  the  plover  limb  from  limb. 

QuiN. 


io6  Examination  of 

only  upon  fast-days.  Charlecote  Hall,  I  could 
have  told  her  sweet  Highness,  was  built  by  those 
Lucys  who  came  over  with  Julius  Cassar  and 
William  the  Conqueror,  with  cross  and  scallop- 
shell  on  breast  and  beaver." 

"  But,  honest  Willy  !'^  —  '' 

Such  were  the  very  words  ;  I  wrote  them 
down  with  two  signs  in  the  margent,  —  one  a 
mark  of  admiration,  as  thus  (!),  the  other  of 
interrogation  (so  we  call  it)  as  thus  (?). 

"  But,  honest  Willy,  I  would  fain  hear  more," 
quoth  he,  "  about  the  learned  Doctor  Glaston. 
He  seemeth  to  be  a  man  after  God's  own 
heart." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Ay  is  he  1  Never  doth  he  sit  down  to 
dinner  but  he  readeth  first  a  chapter  of  the 
Revelation  ;  and  if  he  tasteth  a  pound  of  butter 
at  Carfax,  he  saith  a  grace  long  enough  to  bring 
an  appetite  for  a  baked  bull's  ^ zle.       If  this 

1  Another  untoward  blot !  but  leaving  no  doubt  of  the 
word.  The  only  doubt  is  whether  he  meant  the  muzzle 
of  the  animal  itself,  or  one  of  those  leathern  muzzles 
which  are  often  employed  to  coerce  the  violence  of  fero- 
cious animals.  In  besieged  cities  men  have  been  reduced 
to  such  extremities.  But  the  muzzle,  in  this  place,  we  sus- 
pect, would  more  properly  be  called  the  hliukcr,  which  is 
often  put  upon  bulls  in  pastures  when  they  are  vicious. 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  107 

be   not   after   God's   own   heart,    I    know    not 
what  is." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  I  would  fain  confer  with  him,  but  that  Ox- 
ford lieth  afar  off,  —  a  matter  of  thirty  miles,  I 
hear.  I  might,  indeed,  write  unto  him  ;  but 
our  Warwickshire  pens  are  mighty  broad-nibbed, 
and  there  is  a  something  in  this  plaguy  ink  of 
ours  sadly  ropy  —  " 

"  I  fear  there  is,"  quoth  Willy. 

"  And  I  should  scorn,"  continued  his  worship, 
"  to  write  otherwise  than  in  a  fine  Italian  char- 
acter to  the  master  of  a  college,  near  in  dignity 
to  knighthood." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"Worshipful  sir  I  is  there  no  other  way  of 
communicating  but  by  person,  or  writing,  or 
messages  ?  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  I  will  consider  and  devise.  At  present  I 
can  think  of  none  so   satisfactory." 

And  now  did  the  great  clock  over  the  gate- 
way strike.  And  Bill  Shakspeare  did  move  his 
lips,  even  as  Sir  Thomas  had  moved  his  ere- 
while  in  ejaculating.  And  when  he  had  wagged 
them  twice  or  thrice  after  the  twelve  strokes  of 


io8  Examination  of 

the  clock,  were  over,  again  he  ejaculated  with 
voice  also,   saying,  — 

"  Mercy  upon  us  !  how  the  day  wears  I 
Twelve  strokes  I  Might  I  retire,  please  your 
worship,  into  the  chapel  for  about  three  quar- 
ters of  an  hour,  and  perform  the  service  ^  as 
ordained  ? " 

Before  Sir  Thomas  could  give  him  leave  or 
answer,  did  Sir  Silas  cry  aloud,  — 

"He  would  purloin  the  chalice,  worth  forty- 
eight  shillings,  and  melt  it  down  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye,  he  is  so  crafty." 

But  the  knight  was  more  reasonable,  and  said, 
reprovingly,  — 

''There  now,  Silas  !  thou  talkest  widely,  and 
verily  in  malice,  if  there  be  any  in  thee." 

"  Try  him,"  answered  Master  Silas  ;  "  I  don't 
kneel  where  he  does.     Could  he  have  but  his 

'  This  would  countenance  the  opinion  of  those  who 
are  inclined  to  believe  that  Shakspeare  was  a  Roman 
Catholic.  His  hatred  and  contempt  of  priests,  which  are 
demonstrated  wherever  he  has  introduced  them,  may  have 
originated  from  the  unfairness  of  Silas  Gough.  Nothing 
of  that  kind,  we  may  believe,  had  occurred  to  him  from 
friars  and  monks,  whom  he  treats  respectfully  and  kindly, 
pcrhajjs  in  return  for  some  such  services  to  himself  as  Friar 
Lawrence  had  bestowed  on  Romeo,  —  or  rather  less  ;  for 
Shakspeare  was  grateful.  The  words  quoted  by  him  from 
some  sermon,  now  lost,  prove  him  no  friend  to  the  filch- 
ings  and  swindling  of  popery. 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  109 

wicked  will  of  me  he  would  chop  my  legs  off,  as 
he  did  the  poor  buck's." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  No,  no,  no;  he  hath  neither  guile  nor  re- 
venge in  him.  We  may  let  him  have  his  way, 
now  that  he  hath  taken  the  right  one." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"Popery!  sheer  popery  I  strong  as  harts- 
horn 1  Your  papists  keep  these  outlandish 
hours  for  their  masses  and  mummery.  Surely 
we  might  let  God  alone  at  twelve  o'clock  I 
Have  we  no  bowels  ? " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Gracious  sir  !  I  do  not  urge  it ;  and  the 
time  is  now  past  by  some  minutes." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Art  thou  popishly  inclined,  William  ?" 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

'^Sir,  I  am  not  popishly  inclined;  I  am  not 
inclined  to  pay  tribute  of  coin  or  understanding 
to  those  who  rush  forward  with  a  pistol  at  my 
breast,  crying.  'Stand,  or  you  are  a  dead  man.'' 
I  have  but  one  f;uide  in  faith.  —  a  powerful,  an 


no  Examination  of 

almighty  one.  He  will  not  suffer  to  waste  away 
and  vanish  the  faith  for  which  he  died.  He 
hath  chosen  in  all  countries  pure  hearts  for  its 
depositaries  ;  and  I  would  rather  take  it  from  a 
friend  and  neighbour,  intelligent  and  righteous, 
and  rejecting  lucre,  than  from  some  foreigner 
educated  in  the  pride  of  cities  or  in  the  morose- 
ness  of  monasteries,  who  sells  me  what  Christ 
gave  me,  —  his  own  flesh  and  blood. 

''  I  can  repeat  by  heart  what  I  read  above  a 
year  agone,  albeit  I  cannot  bring  to  mind  the 
title  of  the  book  in  which  I  read  it.  These  are 
the  words,  — 

"  '  The  most  venal  and  sordid  of  all  the 
superstitions  that  have  swept  and  darkened  our 
globe  may,  indeed,  like  African  locusts,  have  con- 
sumed the  green  corn  in  very  extensive  regions, 
and  may  return  periodically  to  consume  it ;  but 
the  strong,  unwearied  labourer  who  sowed  it 
hath  alway  sown  it  in  other  places  less  exposed 
to  such  devouring  pestilences.  Those  cunning 
men  who  formed  to  themselves  the  gorgeous  plan 
of  universal  dominion  were  aware  that  they  had 
a  better  chance  of  establishing  it  than  brute  ig- 
norance or  brute  force  could  supply,  and  that 
soldiers  and  their  paymasters  were  subject  to 
other  and  powerfuller  fears  than  the  transitory 
ones  of  war  and  invasion.     What  they  found  in 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  1 1 1 

heaven  they  seized ;  what  they  wanted  they 
forged. 

"  '  And  so  long  as  there  is  vice  and  ignorance 
in  the  world,  so  long  as  fear  is  a  passion,  their 
dominion  will  prevail  ;  but  their  dominion  is 
not,  and  never  shall  be,  universal.  Can  we 
wonder  that  it  is  so  general  ?  Can  we  wonder 
that  anything  is  wanting  to  give  it  authority 
and  effect,  when  every  learned,  every  prudent, 
every  powerful,  every  ambitious  man  in  Europe, 
for  above  a  thousand  years,  united  in  the  league 
to  consolidate  it  ? 

"'The  old  dealers  in  the  shambles,  where 
Christ's  body  is  exposed  for  sale  in  convenient 
marketable  slices, ^  have  not  covered  with  blood 
and  filth  the  whole  pavement.  Beautiful  usages 
are  remaining  still,  —  kindly  affections,  radiant 
hopes,  and  ardent  aspirations  I 

"  '  It  is  a  comfortable  thing  to  reflect,  as  they 
do,  and  as  we  may  do  unblamably,  that  we  are 
uplifting  to  our  Guide  and  Maker  the  same  in- 
cense of  the  heart,  and  are  uttering  the  very 
words,  which  our  dearest  friends  in  all  quarters 

1  It  is  a  pity  that  the  old  divines  should  have  indulged, 
as  they  often  did,  in  such  images  as  this.  Some  readers 
in  search  of  argumentative  subtility,  some  in  search  of 
sound  Christianity,  some  in  search  of  pure  English  unde- 
filed,  have  gone  through  with  them ;  and  their  labours 
(however  heavy)  have  been  well  repaid. 


1 1 2  Examination  of 

of  the  earth,  nay  in  heaven  itself,  are  offering  to 
the  throne  of  grace  at  the  same  moment. 

"'Thus  are  we  together  through  the  im- 
mensity of  space.  "What  are  these  bodies  ?  Do 
they  unite  us?  No;  they  keep  us  apart  and 
asunder  even  while  we  touch.  Realms  and 
oceans,  worlds  and  ages,  open  before  two  spirits 
bent  on  heaven.  What  a  choir  surrounds  us 
when  we  resolve  to  live  unitedly  and  harmoni- 
ously in  Christian  faith  I  '  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

*'  Now,  Silas,  what  sayest  thou?" 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Ignorant  fool !  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Ignorant  fools  are  bearable.  Master  Silas  1 
your  wise  ones  are  the  worst."' 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Prithee  no  bandying  of  loggerheads." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Or  else  what  mortal  man  shall  say 
Whose  shins  mav  suffer  in  the  frav  ?  " 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  113 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*'  Thou  reasonest  aptly  and  timest  well.  And 
surely,  being  now  in  so  rational  and  religious 
a  frame  of  mind,  thou  couldst  recall  to  memory 
a  section  or  head  or  two  of  the  sermon  holden 
at  St.  Mary's.  It  would  do  thee  and  us  as 
much  good  as  Lighten  our  darkness,  or  Foras- 
much as  it  hath  pleased;  and  somewhat  less 
than  three  quarters  of  an  hour  (maybe  less  than 
one  quarter)  sufficeth." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Or  he  hangs  without  me.  I  am  for  dinner 
in  half  the  time." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*•  Silas  I  Silas  I  he  hangeth  not  with  thee  or 
without  thee." 

SIR   SILAS. 

"  He  thinketh  himself  a  clever  fellow  ;  but  he 
(look  ye)  is  the  cleverest  that  gets  off." 

"  I  hold  quite  the  contrary,"  quoth  Will 
Shakspeare,  winking  at  Master  Silas  from  the 
comfort  and  encouragement  he  had  just  received 
touchmg  the  hanging. 

And  Master  Silas  had  his  answer  ready,  and 
shewed  that  he  was  more  than  a  match  for  poor 
Willy  in  wit  and  poetry. 


1 1 4  Examination  of 

He  answered  thus  :  — 

"  If  winks  are  wit, 
Who  wanteth  it  ? 

Thou  hadst  other  bolts  to  kill  bucks  withal.     In 
wit,  sirrah,  thou  art  a  mere  child." 

■WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  Little  dogs  are  jealous  of  children,  great 
ones  fondle  them." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  An  that  were  written  in  the  Apocrypha,  in 
the  very  teeth  of  Bel  and  the  Dragon,  it  could 
not  be  truer.  I  have  witnessed  it  with  my  own 
eyes  over  and  over." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"He  will  take  this  for  wit,  likewise,  now 
the  arms  of  Lucy  do  seal  it." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Silas,  they  may  stamp  wit,  they  may  further 
wit,  they  may  send  wit  into  good  company,  but 
not  make  it." 

■WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  Behold  my  wall  of  defence  1  " 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  iiS 

SIR   SILAS. 

"  An  thou  art  for  walls,  I  have  one  for  thee 
from  Oxford,  pithy  and  apposite,  sound  and 
solid,  and  trimmed  up  becomingly,  as  a  collar  of 
brawn  with  a  crown  of  rosemary,  or  a  boar's 
head  with  a  lemon  in  the  mouth." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Egad,  Master  Silas,  those  are  your  walls 
for  lads  to  climb  over,  an  they  were  higher  than 
Babel's." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Have  at  thee  I 

"  Thou  art  a  wall 
To  make  the  ball 
Rebound  from. 

"  Thou  hast  a  back 
For  beadle's  crack 

To  sound  from,  to  sound  from. 

The  foolishest  dolts  are  the  ground-plot  of  the 
most  wit,  as  the  idlest  rogues  are  of  the  most  in- 
dustry. Even  thou  hast  brought  wit  down  from 
Oxford.  And  before  a  thief  is  hanged,  parliament 
must  make  laws,  attorneys  must  engross  them, 
printers  stamp  and  publish  them,  hawkers  cry 
them,  judges  expound  them,  juries  weigh  and 
measure  them  with  offences,  then  executioners 


ii6  Examination  of 

carry  them  into  effect.  The  farmer  hath  already 
sown  the  hemp,  the  ropemaker  hath  twisted  it ; 
sawyers  saw  the  timber,  carpenters  tack  together 
the  shell,  grave-diggers  delve  the  earth.  And 
all  this  truly  for  fellows  like  unto  thee." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Whom  a  God  came  down  from  heaven  to 
save." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Silas  I  he  hangeth  not.  William,  I  must 
have  the  heads  of  the  sermon,  six  or  seven  of 
'em  ;  thou  hast  whetted  my  appetite  keenly. 
How  !  dost  duck  thy  pate  into  thy  hat }  nay, 
nay,  that  is  proper  and  becoming  at  church  ; 
we  need  not  such  solemnity.  Repeat  unto  us 
the  setting  forth  at  St.  Mary's." 

Whereupon  did  William  Shakspeare  entreat 
of  Master  Silas  that  he  would  help  him  in  his 
ghostly  endeavours,  by  repeating  what  he  called 
the  preliminary  prayer  ;  which  prayer  I  find 
nowhere  in  our  ritual,  and  do  suppose  it  to  be 
one  of  those  Latin  supplications  used  in  our 
learned  universities  now  or  erewhile. 

I  am  afeard  it  hath  not  the  approbation  of  the 
strictly  orthodox,  for  inasmuch  as  Master  Silas 
at  such  entreaty  did  close  his  teeth  against  it, 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  117 

and  with  teeth  thus  closed  did  say,  Athanasius- 
wise,  "  Go  and  be  damned  I  " 

Bill  was  not  disheartened,  but  said  he  hoped 
better,  and  began  thus  :  — 

"'My  brethren  I '  said  the  preacher,  'or 
rather  let  me  call  you  my  children,  such  is  my 
age  confronted  with  yours,  for  the  most  part,  — 
my  children,  then,  and  my  brethren  (for  here  are 
both),  believe  me,  killing  is  forbidden.'  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"This,  not  being  delivered  unto  us  from  the 
pulpit  by  the  preacher  himself,  we  may  look 
into.  Sensible  man  1  shrewd  reasoner  I  "What  a 
stroke  against  deer-stealers  !  how  full  of  truth 
and  ruth  !     Excellent  discourse  1  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  The  last  part  was  the  best." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  I  always  find  it  so.  The  softest  of  the 
cheesecake  is  left  in  the  platter  when  the  crust 
is  eaten.  He  kept  the  best  bit  for  the  last, 
then?  He  pushed  it  under  the  salt,  eh?  He 
told  thee  —  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Exactly  so." 


Ii8  Exa  mi  nation  of 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  What  was  it  ?  " 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

''  '  Ye  shall  not  kill.'  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  How  I  did  he  run  in  a  circle  like  a  hare  .> 
One  of  his  mettle  should  break  cover  and  off 
across  the   country   like   a  fox  or  hart." 

■WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  '  And  yet  ye  kill  time  when  ye  can,  and  are 
uneasy  when  ye  cannot.'  " 

Whereupon  did  Sir  Thomas  say,  aside  unto 
himself,  but  within  my  hearing,  — 

"  Faith  and  troth  !  he  must  have  had  a  head 
in  at  the  window  here  one  day  or  other." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  'This  sin  cryeth  unto  the  Lord.'  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

'*  He  was  wrong  there.  It  is  not  one  of  those 
that  cry  ;  mortal  sins  cry.  Surely  he  could 
not  have  fallen  into  such  an  error  !  it  must  be 
thine;  thou  misunderstoodest  him." 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  119 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  Mayhap,  sir  I  A  great  heaviness  came  over 
me ;  I  was  oppressed  in  spirit,  and  did  feel  as 
one  awakening  from  a  dream." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Godlier  men  than  thou  art  do  often  feel  the 
right  hand  of  the  Lord  upon  their  heads  in  like 
manner.  It  followeth  contrition,  and  precedeth 
conversion.     Continue." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"'My  brethren  and  children,'  said  the 
teacher,  '  whenever  ye  want  to  kill  time  call 
God  to  the  chase,  and  bid  the  angels  blow  the 
horn  ;  and  thus  ye  are  sure  to  kill  time  to  your 
heart's  content.  And  ye  may  feast  another  day, 
and  another  after  that  — '  " 

Then  said  Master  Silas  unto  me,  concernedly, 

"  This  is  the  mischief-fullest  of  all  the  devil's 
imps,  to  talk  in  such  wise  at  a  quarter  past 
twelve  I  " 

But  William  went  straight  on,  not  hearing 
him,  — 

"'  —  upon  what  ye  shall,  in  such  pursuit, 
have  brought  home  with  you.  Whereas,  if  ye 
go  alone,  or  two  or  three  together,  nay,  even  if 


I20  Examination  of 

ye  go  in  thick  and  gallant  company,  and  yet 
provide  not  that  these  be  with  ye,  my  word  for 
it,  and  a  powerfuUer  word  than  mine,  ye  shall 
return  to  your  supper  tired  and  jaded,  and  rest 
little  when  ye  want  to  rest  most.'  " 

"Hast  no  other  head  of  the  Doctor's?" 
quoth  Sir  Thomas. 

"  Verily  none,"  replied  Willy,  "  of  the  morn- 
ing's discourse,  saving  the  last  words  of  it,  which, 
with  God's  help,  I  shall  always  remember." 

"  Give  us  them,  give  us  them,"  said  Sir 
Thomas. 

"  He  wants  doctrine  ;  he  wants  authority  ; 
his  are  grains  of  millet,  — grains  for  unfledged 
doves  ;  but  they  are  sound,  except  the  crying. 

"  Deliver  unto  us  the  last  words  ;  for  the  last 
of  the  preacher,  as  of  the  hanged,  are  usually  the 
best." 

Then  did  William  repeat  the  concluding  words 
of  the  discourse,  being  these  :  — 

"  '  As  years  are  running  past  us,  let  us  throw 
something  on  them  which  they  cannot  shake  off 
in  the  dust  and  hurry  of  the  world,  but  must 
carry  with  them  to  that  great  year  of  all,  where- 
unto  the  lesser  of  this  mortal  life  do  tend  and 
are  subservient.'  " 

Sir  Thomas,  after  a  pause,  and  after  hav- 
ing bent  his   knee  under  the  table,  as  though 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  121 

there  had  been  the  church-cushion,  said  unto 
us,  — 

"  Here  he  spake  through  a  glass,  darkly,  as 
blessed  Paul  hath  it." 

Then  turning  toward  Willy,  — 

"  And  nothing  more  ?  " 

"  Nothing  but  the  glory, ^'  quoth  Willy,  "  at 
which  there  is  always  such  a  clatter  of  feet  upon 
the  floor,  and  creaking  of  benches,  and  rustling 
of  gowns,  and  bustle  of  bonnets,  and  justle  of 
cushions,  and  dust  of  mats,  and  treading  of  toes, 
and  punching  of  elbows,  from  the  spitefuller, 
that  one  wishes  to  be  fairly  out  of  it,  after  the 
scramble  for  the  peace  of  God  is  at  an  end  —  " 

Sir  Thomas  threw  himself  back  upon  his  arm- 
chair, and  exclaimed  in  wonderment,  ''  How  1  " 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

"  —  and  in  the  midst  of  the  service  again, 
were  it  possible.  For  nothing  is  painfuller  than 
to  have  the  pail  shaken  oflf  the  head  when  it  is 
brim-full  of  the  waters  of  life,  and  we  are  walk- 
ing staidly  under  it." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Had  the  learned  Doctor  preached  again  in 
the  evening,  pursuing  the  thread  of  his  discourse, 


122  Examination  of 

he  might,  peradventure,  have  made  up  the  defi- 
ciencies I  find  in  him." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  He  had  not  that  opportunity." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  The  more  's  the  pity." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  The  evening  admonition,  delivered  by  him 
unto  the  household  —  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  What  I  and  did  he  indeed  shew  wind  enough 
for  that  ?  Prithee  out  with  it,  if  thou  didst  put 
it  into  thy  tablets." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Alack,  sir  !  there  were  so  many  Latin  words, 
I  fear  me  I  should  be  at  fault  in  such  attempt." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Fear  not  ;  we  can  help  thee  out  between 
us,  were  there  a  dozen  or  a  score." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  123 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

'*  Bating  those  latinities,  I  do  verily  think 
I  could  tie  up  again  most  of  the  points  in  his 
doublet/' 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  At  him  then  !     What  was  his  bearing  ?  " 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  In  dividing  his  matter,  he  spooned  out  and 
apportioned  the  commons  in  his  discourse,  as 
best  suited  the  quality,  capacity,  and  constitu- 
tion of  his  hearers.  To  those  in  priests'  orders 
he  delivered  a  sort  of  catechism." 

SIR  SILAS. 

"He  catechise  grown  men  I  He  catechise 
men  in  priests'  orders  !  —  being  no  bishop,  nor 
bishop's  ordinary  1  " 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  He  did  so  ;  it  may  be  at  his  peril." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  And  what  else  ?  for  catechisms  are  baby's 
pap." 


124  Examination  of 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  He  did  not  catechise,  but  he  admonished 
the  richer  gentlemen  with  gold  tassels  for  their 
top-knots." 

SIR  SILAS. 

"  I  thought  as  much.  It  was  no  better  in  my 
time.  Admonitions  fell  gently  upon  those  gold 
tassels  ;  and  they  ripened  degrees  as  glass  and 
sunshine  ripen  cucumbers.  We  priests,  for- 
sooth, are  catechised  !  The  worst  question  to 
any  gold  tasseller  is,  '  Hoiv  do  you  do  ) '  Old 
Alma  Mater  coaxes  and  would  be  coaxed.  But 
let  her  look  sharp,  or  spectacles  may  be  thrust 
upon  her  nose  that  shall  make  her  eyes  water. 
Aristotle  could  make  out  no  royal  road  to  wis- 
dom ;  but  this  old  woman  of  ours  will  shew  you 
one,  an  you  tip  her. 

"Tilley  valley  !  ^  catechise  priests,  indeed  1  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Peradventure  he  did  it  discreetly.  Let  us 
examine  and  judge  him.  Repeat  thou  what  he 
said  unto  them." 

'  Tilley  valley  was  the  favourite  adjuration  of  James 
the  Second.     It  appears  in  the  comedies  of  Shakspeare. 


]Villiam  Shakspeare,  etc.  125 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

**  *  Many,'  said  he,  '  are  ingenuous,  many  are 
devout,  some  timidly,  some  strenuously,  but 
nearly  all  flinch,  and  rear,  and  kick,  at  the 
slightest  touch,  or  least  inquisitive  suspicion  of 
an  unsound  part  in  their  doctrine.  And  yet,  my 
brethren,  we  ought  rather  to  flinch  and  feel  sore 
at  our  own  searching  touch,  our  own  serious  in- 
quisition into  ourselves.  Let  us  preachers,  who 
are  sufficiently  liberal  in  bestowing  our  advice 
upon  others,  inquire  of  ourselves  whether  the 
exercise  of  spiritual  authority  may  not  be  some- 
times too  pleasant,  tickling  our  breasts  with  a 
plume  from  Satan's  wing,  and  turning  our  heads 
with  that  inebriating  poison  which  he  hath  been 
seen  to  instil  into  the  very  chalice  of  our  salva- 
tion. Let  us  ask  ourselves  in  the  closet  whether, 
after  v/e  have  humbled  ourselves  before  God 
in  our  prayers,  we  never  rise  beyond  the  due 
standard  in  the  pulpit ;  whether  our  zeal  for  the 
truth  be  never  over-heated  by  internal  fires  less 
holy  ;  whether  we  never  grow  stiffly  and  sternly 
pertinacious,  at  the  very  time  when  we  are  re- 
proving the  obstinacy  of  others  ;  and  whether 
we  have  not  frequently  so  acted  as  if  we  be- 
lieved that  opposition  were  to  be  relaxed  and 
borne  away  by  self-sufficiency  and  intolerance. 
Believe  me,  the  wisest  of  us  have  our  catechism 


126  Examination  of 

to  learn  ;  and  these,  my  dear  friends,  are  not  the 
only  questions  contained  in  it.  No  Christian 
can  hate  ;  no  Christian  can  malign.  Neverthe- 
less, do  we  not  often  both  hate  and  malign  those 
unhappy  men  who  are  insensible  to  God's  mer- 
cies }  And  I  fear  this  unchristian  spirit  swells 
darkly,  with  all  its  venom,  in  the  marble  of  our 
hearts,  not  because  our  brother  is  insensible  to 
these  mercies,  but  because  he  is  insensible  to 
our  faculty  of  persuasion,  turning  a  deaf  ear  un- 
to our  claim  upon  his  obedience,  or  a  blind  or 
sleepy  eye  upon  the  fountain  of  light,  whereof 
we  deem  ourselves  the  sacred  reservoirs.  There 
is  one  more  question  at  which  ye  will  tremble 
when  ye  ask  it  in  the  recesses  of  your  souls  ;  I 
do  tremble  at  it,  yet  must  utter  it.  Whether 
we  do  not  more  warmly  and  erectly  stand  up  for 
God's  word  because  it  came  from  our  mouths, 
than  because  it  came  from  his  ?  Learned  and 
ingenious  men  may  indeed  find  a  solution  and 
excuse  for  all  these  propositions  ;  but  the  wise 
unto  salvation  will  cry,  "  Forgive  me,  O  my  God, 
if,  called  by  thee  to  walk  in  thy  way,  I  have  not 
swept  this  dust  from  the  sanctuary  I  "  '  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  All    this,    mcthinks,    is    for   the   behoof  of 
clerks  and  ministers." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  127 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  He  taught  them  what  they  who  teach 
others  should  learn  and  practise.  Then  did 
he  look  toward  the  young  gentlemen  of  large 
fortune ;  and  lastly  his  glances  fell  upon  us 
poorer  folk,  whom  he  instructed  in  the  duty 
we   owe  to   our   superiors." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Ay,  there  he  had  a  host." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  In  one  part  of  his  admonition  he  said,  — 
"■  '  Young  gentlemen  !  let  not  the  highest  of 
you  who  hear  me  this  evening  be  led  into  the 
delusion,  for  such  it  is,  that  the  founder  of  his 
family  was  originally  a  greater  or  a  better  man 
than  the  lowest  here.  He  willed  it,  and  became 
it.  He  must  have  stood  low  ;  he  must  have 
worked  hard,  —  and  with  tools,  moreover,  of  his 
own  invention  and  fashioning.  He  waved  and 
whistled  off  ten  thousand  strong  and  importu- 
nate temptations  ;  he  dashed  the  dice-box  from 
the  jewelled  hand  of  Chance,  the  cup  from  Plea- 
sure's, and  trod  under  foot  the  sorceries  of 
each  ;  he  ascended  steadily  the  precipices  of 
Danger,  and  looked  down  with  intrepidity  from 


128  ExaDiiiiatioii  of 

the  summit;  he  overawed  Arrogance  with  Sedate- 
ness ;  he  seized  by  the  horn  and  overleaped 
low  Violence ;  and  he  fairly  swung  Fortune 
round. 

"'The  very  high  cannot  rise  much  higher; 
the  very  low  may,  —  the  truly  great  must  have 
done  it. 

"  '  This  is  not  the  doctrine,  my  friends,  of 
the  silkenly  and  lawnly  religious  ;  it  wears  the 
coarse  texture  of  the  fisherman,  and  walks  up- 
rightly and  straightforward  under  it.  I  am 
speaking  now  more  particularly  to  you  among 
us  upon  whom  God  hath  laid  the  incumbrances 
of  wealth,  the  sweets  whereof  bring  teazing  and 
poisonous  things  about  you,  not  easily  sent  away. 
What  now  are  your  pretensions  under  sacks  of 
money  ?  or  your  enjoyments  under  the  shade  of 
genealogical  trees  ?  Are  they  rational  }  Are 
they  real  ?  Do  they  exist  at  all  ?  Strange  in- 
consistency I  to  be  proud  of  having  as  much 
gold  and  silver  laid  upon  you  as  a  mule  hath, 
and  yet  to  carry  it  less  composedly  I  The  mule 
is  not  answerable  for  the  conveyance  and  dis- 
charge of  his  burden,  —  you  are.  Stranger  in- 
fatuation still  !  to  be  prouder  of  an  excellent 
thing  done  by  another  than  by  yourselves,  sup- 
posing any  excellent  thing  to  have  actually  been 
done  ;  and.  after  all,  to  be  more  elated  on  his 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  129 

cruelties  than  his  kindnesses,  by  the  blood  he  hath 
spilt  than  by  the  benefits  he  had  conferred  ;  and 
to  acknowledge  less  obligation  to  a  well-in- 
formed and  well-intentioned  progenitor  than  to 
a  lawless  and  ferocious  barbarian.  Would 
stocks  and  stumps,  if  they  could  utter  words, 
utter  such  gross  stupidity  ?  Would  the  apple 
boast  of  his  crab  origin,  or  the  peach  of  his 
prune  ?  Hardly  any  man  is  ashamed  of  being 
inferior  to  his  ancestors,  although  it  is  the  very 
thing  at  which  the  great  should  blush,  if,  indeed, 
the  great  in  general  descended  from  the  worthy. 
I  did  expect  to  see  the  day,  and  although  I  shall 
not  see  it,  it  must  come  at  last,  when  he  shall  be 
treated  as  a  madman  or  an  impostor  who  dares 
to  claim  nobility  or  precedency  and  cannot  shew 
his  family  name  in  the  history  of  his  country. 
Even  he  who  can  shew  it,  and  who  cannot  write 
his  own  under  it  in  the  same  or  as  goodly  char- 
acters, must  submit  to  the  imputation  of  degen- 
eracy, from  which  the  lowly  and  obscure  are 
exempt. 

"  '  He  alone  who  maketh  you  wiser  maketh 
you  greater  ;  and  it  is  only  by  such  an  im- 
plement that  Almighty  God  himself  effects  it. 
When  he  taketh  away  a  man's  wisdom  he 
taketh  away  his  strength,  his  power  over  others 
and  over  himself.  What  help  for  him  then } 
9 


130  Examination  of 

He  may  sit  idly  and  swell  his  spleen,  saying,  — 
Who  is  this )  who  is  that  ^  and  at  the  question's 
end  the  spirit  of  inquiry  dies  away  in  him.  It 
would  not  have  been  so  if,  in  happier  hour,  he 
had  said  within  himself,  Who  am  I)  what  am  H 
and  had  prosecuted  the  search  in  good  earnest. 

"  '  When  we  ask.  who  this  man  is,  or  who  that 
man  is,  we  do  not  expect  or  hope  for  a  plam  an- 
swer ;  we  should  be  disappointed  at  a  direct,  or 
a  rational,  or  a  kind  one.  We  desire  to  hear 
that  he  was  of  low  origin,  or  had  committed 
some  crime,  or  been  subjected  to  some  calam- 
ity. Whoever  he  be,  in  general  we  disregard 
or  despise  him,  unless  we  discover  that  he  pos- 
sesseth  by  nature  many  qualities  of  mind  and 
body  which  he  never  brings  into  use,  and  many 
accessories  of  situation  and  fortune  which  he 
brings  into  abuse  every  day.  According  to  the 
arithmetic  in  practice,  he  who  makes  the  most 
idlers  and  the  most  ingrates  is  the  most  worship- 
ful. But  wiser  ones  than  the  scorers  in  this 
school  will  tell  you  how  riches  and  power  were 
bestowed  by  Providence  that  generosity  and 
mercy  should  be  exercised  ;  for,  if  every  gift  of 
the  Almighty  were  distributed  in  equal  portions  to 
every  creature,  less  of  such  virtues  would  be 
called  into  the  field  ;  consequently  there  would 
be  less  of  gratitude,  less  of  submission,  less  of 


iVilliai)i  Shakspcare,  etc.  131 

devotion,  less  of  hope,  and,  in  the  total,  less  of 
content.'  " 

Here  he  ceased,  and  Sir  Thomas  nodded,  and 
said,  — 

"  Reasonable  enough  !  nay,  almost  too  rea- 
sonable ! 

"  But  where  are  the  apostles  ?  Where  are 
the  disciples  ?  Where  are  the  saints  r  Where 
is  hell-fire  ? 

"  Well  !  patience  I  we  may  come  to  it  yet. 
Go  on,  Will  !  " 

With  such  encouragement  before  him,  did 
Will   Shakspeare   take  breath  and  continue  :  — 

"  '  We  mortals  are  too  much  accustomed  to 
behold  our  superiors  in  rank  and  station  as  we 
behold  the  leaves  in  the  forest.  While  we  stand 
under  these  leaves,  our  protection  and  refuge 
from  heat  and  labour,  we  see  only  the  rougher 
side  of  them,  and  the  gloominess  of  the  branches 
on  which  they  hang.  In  the  midst  of  their  ben- 
efits we  are  insensible  to  their  utility  and  their 
beauty,  and  appear  to  be  ignorant  that  if  they 
were  placed  less  high  above  us  we  should  de- 
rive from  them  less  advantage.'  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Ay  ;  envy  of  superiority  made  the  angels 
kick  and  run  restive." 


132  Examination  of 


WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  May  it  please  your  worship  I  with  all  my 
faults,  I  have  ever  borne  due  submission  and 
reverence  toward  my  superiors." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Very  right  !  very  scriptural  !  But  most 
folks  do  that.  Our  duty  is  not  fulfilled  unless 
we  bear  absolute  veneration ;  unless  we  are 
ready  to  lay  down  our  lives  and  fortunes  at 
the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  every  thing  else  at 
the  foot  of  those  who  administer  the  laws  under 
virgin  majesty." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Honoured  sir  I  I  am  quite  ready  to  lay 
down  my  life  and  fortune,  and  all  the  rest  of  me, 
before  that  great  virgin." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"Thy  life  and  fortune,  to  wit  ! 
"What  are  they   worth  .>     A   June  cob-nut, 
maggot  and  all." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Silas,  we  will  not  repudiate  nor  rebuff  his 
Magdalen,  that  bringeth  a  pot  of  ointment. 
Rather  let  us  teach  and  tutor  than  twit.     It  is  a 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  133 

tractable   and  conducible  youth,  being  in  good 
company." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Teach  and  tutor  I  Hold  hard,  sir  1  These 
base  varlets  ought  to  be  taught  but  two  things  : 
to  bow  as  beseemeth  them  to  their  betters,  and 
to  hang  perpendicular.  "We  have  authority  for 
it,  that  no  man  can  add  an  inch  to  his  stature  ; 
but  by  aid  of  the  sheriff  I  engage  to  find  a  chap 
who  shall  add  two  or  three  to  this  whoreson's."^ 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Nay,  nay,  now,  Silas  !  the  lad's  mother  was 
always  held  to  be  an  honest  woman." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  His  mother  may  be  an  honest  woman  for 
me." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  No  small  privilege,  by  my  faith  !  for  any 
woman  in  the  next  parish  to  thee,  Master  Silas  I  "' 

1  IVhoi-eson,  if  we  may  hazard  a  conjecture,  means  the 
son  of  a  woman  of  ill-repute.  In  this  we  are  borne  out 
by  the  context.  It  appears  to  have  escaped  the  commen- 
tators on  Shakspeare. 

Whoreson,  a  word  of  frequent  occurrence  in  the  come- 
dies ;  more  rarely  found  in  the  tragedies.  Although  now 
obsolete,  the  expression  proves  that  there  were  (or  were 
believed  to  be)  such  persons  formerlv. 

The  Editor  is  indebted  to  two  learned  friends  for  these 
two  remarks,  which  appear  no  less  just  than  ingenious. 


134  Hxiimmation  of 

SIR    SILAS. 

"There  again  I  out  comes  the  filthy  runlet 
from  the  quagmire,  that  but  now  lay  so  quiet 
with  all  its  own  in  it/' 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  Until  it  was  trodden  on  by  the  ass  that 
could  not  leap  over  it.  These,  I  think,  are  the 
words  of  the  fable." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  They  are  so." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"What  fable  .>" 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"Tush  !  don't  press  him  too  hard  ;  he  wants 
not  wit,  but  learning." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  He  wants  a  rope's-end;  and  a  rope's-end 
is  not  enough  for  him,  unless  we  throw  in  the 
other." 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  Peradventure  he  may  be  an  instrument,  a 
potter's  clay,  a  type,  a  token. 

"  I  have  seen  many  young  men,  and  none  like 


IVilliain  Shakspeare,  etc.  135 

unto   him.      He   is   shallow   but   clear ;    he  is 
simple,  but  ingenuous." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Drag  the  ford  again,  then.  In  my  mind  he 
is  as  deep  as  the  big  tankard  ;  and  a  mouthful 
of  rough  burrage  will  be  the  beginning  and  end 
of  it." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  No  fear  of  that.  Neither,  if  rightly  re- 
ported by  the  youngster,  is  there  so  much  doc- 
trine in  the  doctor  as  we  expected.  He  doth 
not  dwell  upon  the  main  ;  he  is  worldly  ;  he  is 
wise  in  his  generation,  —  he  says  things  out  of 
his   own  head. 

"  Silas,  that  can't  hold  1  We  want  props  — 
fulcrums,  I  think  you  called  "em  to  the  farmers  ; 
or  was  it  slimulums  i  " 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  Both  very  good  words." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  I  should  be  mightily  pleased  to  hear  thee 
dispute  with  that  great  don." 


136         ■  Examination  of 

SIR  SILAS. 

"  I  hate  disputations.  Saint  Paul  warns  us 
against  them.  If  one  wants  to  be  thirsty,  the 
tail  of  a  stockfish  is  as  good  for  it  as  the  head  of 
a  logician. 

"  The  doctor  there,  at  Oxford,  is  in  flesh  and 
mettle  ;  but  let  him  be  sleek  and  gingered  as  he 
may,  clap  me  in  St.  Mary's  pulpit,  cassock 
me,  lamb-skin  me,  give  me  pink  for  my  colours, 
glove  me  to  the  elbow,  heel-piece  me  half  an  ell 
high,  cushion  me  before  and  behind,  bring  me  a 
mug  of  mild  ale  and  a  rasher  of  bacon,  only  just 
to  con  over  the  text  withal  ;  then  allow  me  fair 
play,  and  as  much  of  my  own  way  as  he  had, 
and  .the  devil  take  the  hindermost.  I  am  his 
man  at  any  time." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  I  am  fain  to  believe  it.  Verily,  I  do  think, 
Silas,  thou  hast  as  much  stuff  in  thee  as  most  men. 
Our  beef  and  mutton  at  Charlecote  rear  other 
than  babes  and  sucklings. 

"  I  like  words  taken,  like  thine,  from  black- 
letter  books.  They  look  stiff  and  sterling,  and 
as  though  a  man  might  dig  about  "em  for  a  week, 
and  never  loosen  the  lightest. 

"  Thou  hast  alway  at  hand  either  saint  or 
devil,    as   occasion   needeth.    according  to   the 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  137 

quality  of  the  sinner,  and  they  never  come  un- 
called for.  Moreover,  Master  Silas,  I  have  ob- 
served that  thy  hell-fire  is  generally  lighted  up  in 
the  pulpit  about  the  dog-days." 

Then  turned  the  worthy  knight  unto  the 
youth,    saying, — 

"  'T  were  well  for  thee,  William  Shakspeare, 
if  the  learned  doctor  had  kept  thee  longer  in  his 
house,  and  had  shewn  unto  thee  the  danger  of 
idleness,  which  hath  often  led  unto  deer-stealing 
and  poetry.  In  thee  we  already  know  the  one, 
although  the  distemper  hath  eaten  but  skin-deep 
for  the  present  ;  and  we  have  the  testimony  of 
two  burgesses  on  the  other.  The  pursuit  of 
poetry,  as  likewise  of  game,  is  unforbidden  to 
persons  of  condition." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Sir,  that  of  game  is  the  more  likely  to  keep 
them  in  it." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"It  is  the  more  knightly  of  the  two  ;  but 
poetry  hath  also  her  pursuers  among  us.  I 
myself,  in  my  youth,  had  some  experience  that 
way  ;  and  I  am  fain  to  blush  at  the  reputation  I 
obtained.  His  honour,  my  father,  took  me  to 
London  at  the  age  of  twenty  ;  and,  sparing  no 
expense  in  my  education,  gave  fifty  shillings  to 


138  Examination  of 

one  Monsieur  Dubois  to  teach  me  fencing  and 
poetry,  in  twenty  lessons.  In  vacant  hours  he 
taught  us  also  the  laws  of  honour,  which  are 
different  from  ours. 

"  In  France  you  are  unpolite  unless  you 
solicit  a  judge  or  his  wife  to  favour  your  cause  ; 
and  you  inevitably  lose  it.  In  France  there  is 
no  want  of  honour  where  there  is  no  want  of 
courage  ;  you  may  lie,  but  you  must  not  hear 
that  you  lie.  I  asked  him  what  he  thought  then 
of  lying  ;  and  he  replied, — 
"■  '  Cesi  scion.' 

"  *  And  suppose  you  should  overhear  the 
whisper  } ' 

"  '  Ah,  parbleu !  Cela  m'irrile  ;  cela  me  pousse 
au  bouts 

"  I  was  going  on  to  remark  that  a  real  man 
of  honour  could  less  bear  to  lie  than  to  hear  it  ; 
when  he  cried,  at  the  words  real  man  of 
honour,  — 

"  '  Le  poilA,  Monsieur  !  le  voiL\ ! '  and  gave 
himself  such  a  blow  on  the  breast  as  convinced 
me  the  French  are  a  brave  people. 

"  He  told  us  that  nothing  but  his  honour  was 
left  him,  but  that  it  supplied  the  place  of  all  he 
had  lost.  It  was  discovered  some  time  after- 
ward that  M.  Dubois  had  been  guilty  of  per- 
jury, had  been  a  spy,  and  had  lost  nothing  but  a 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  139 

dozen  or  two  of  tin  patty-pans,  hereditary  in  his 
family,  his  father  having  been  a  cook  on  his  own 
account. 

"  William,  it  is  well  at  thy  time  of  life  that 
thou  shouldst  know  the  customs  of  far  coun- 
tries, particularly  if  it  should  be  the  will  of  God 
to  place  thee  in  a  company  of  players.  Of  all 
nations  in  the  world,  the  French  best  under- 
stand the  stage.  If  thou  shouldst  ever  write  for 
it,  which  God  forbid,  copy  them  very  carefully. 
Murders  on  their  stage  are  quite  decorous  and 
cleanly.  Few  gentlemen  and  ladies  die  by  vio- 
lence who  would  not  have  died  by  exhaustion. 
'  For  they  rant  and  rave  until  their  voice  fails 
them,  one  after  another  ;  and  those  who  do  not 
die  of  it  die  consumptive.  They  cannot  bear 
to  see  cruelty  ;  they  would  rather  see  any  image 
than  their  own.'  These  are  not  my  observa- 
tions, but  were  made  by  Sir  Everard  Starkeye, 
who  likewise  did  remark  to  Monsieur  Dubois, 
that  '  cats,  if  you  hold  them  up  to  the  looking- 
glass,  will  scratch  you  terribly  ;  and  that  the 
same  fierce  animal,  as  if  proud  of  its  cleanly 
coat  and  velvety  paw,  doth  carefully  put  aside 
what  other  animals  of  more  estimation  take  no 
trouble  to  conceal.' 

"  '  Our  people,'  said  Sir  Everard,  '  must  see 
upon  the  stage  what  they  never  could  have  im- 


I40  Examination  of 

agined  ;  so  the  best  men  in  the  world  would 
earnestly  take  a  peep  of  hell  through  a  chink, 
whereas  the  worser  would  skulk  away.' 

"  Do  not  thou  be  their  caterer,  William  ! 
Avoid  the  writing  of  comedies  and  tragedies. 
To  make  people  laugh  is  uncivil,  and  to  make 
people  cry  is  unkind.  And  what,  after  all,  are 
these  comedies  and  these  tragedies  ?  They  are 
what,  for  the  benefit  of  all  future  generations,  I 
have  myself  described  them,  — 

'  The  whimsies  of  wantons  and  stories  of  dread, 
That  make  the  stout-hearted  look  under  the  bed.' 

Furthermore,  let  me  warn  thee  against  the  same 
on  account  of  the  vast  charges  thou  must  stand 
at.  We  Englishmen  cannot  find  it  in  our  hearts 
to  murder  a  man  without  much  difficulty,  hesita- 
tion, and  delay.  We  have  little  or  no  invention 
for  pains  and  penalties  ;  it  is  only  our  acutest 
lawyers  who  have  wit  enough  to  frame  them. 
Therefore  it  behooveth  your  tragedy-man  to  pro- 
vide a  rich  assortment  of  them,  in  order  to  strike 
the  auditor  with  awe  and  wonder.  And  a  trag- 
edy-man, in  our  country,  who  cannot  afford  a 
fair  dozen  of  stabbed  males,  and  a  trifle  under 
that  mark  of  poisoned  females,  and  chains  enow 
to  moor  a  whole  navy  in  dock,  is  but  a  scurvy 
fellow  at  the  best.     Thou  wilt  find  trouble  in 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  141 

purveying  these  necessaries  ;  and  then  must 
come  the  gim-cracks  for  the  second  course,  — 
gods,  goddesses,  fates,  furies,  battles,  marriages, 
music,  and  the  maypole.  Hast  thou  within  thee 
wherewithal  ?  " 

"  Sir  !  "  replied  Billy,  with  great  modesty, 
"  I  am  most  grateful  for  these  ripe  fruits  of 
your  experience.  To  admit  delightful  visions 
into  my  own  twilight  chamber  is  not  dangerous 
nor  forbidden.  Believe  me,  sir,  he  who  in- 
dulges in  them  will  abstain  from  injuring  his 
neighbour  ;  he  will  see  no  glory  in  peril,  and  no 
delight  in  strife. 

"  The  world  shall  never  be  troubled  by  any 
battles  and  marriages  of  mine,  and  I  desire  no 
other  music  and  no  other  maypole  than  have 
lightened  my  heart  at  Stratford." 

Sir  Thomas,  finding  him  well-conditioned  and 
manageable,  proceeded  :  — 

"  Although  I  have  admonished  thee  of  sundry 
and  insurmountable  impediments,  yet  more  are 
lying  in  the  pathway.  We  have  no  verse  for 
tragedy.  One  in  his  hurry  hath  dropped  rhyme, 
and  walketh  like  unto  the  man  who  wanteth  the 
left-leg  stocking.  Others  can  give  us  rhyme  in- 
deed, but  can  hold  no  longer  after  the  tenth  or 
eleventh  syllable.  Now  Sir  Everard  Starkeye, 
who  is  a  pretty  poet,  did  confess  to  Monsieur 


142  Examination  of 

Dubois  the  potency  of  the  French  tragic 
verse,  which  thou  never  canst  hope  to  bring 
over. 

"  '  I  w^onder,  Monsieur  Dubois  ! '  said  Sir 
Cverard,  '  that  your  countrymen  should  have 
thought  it  necessary  to  transport  their  heavy 
artillery  into  Italy.  No  Italian  could  stand  a 
volley  of  your  heroic  verses  from  the  best  and 
biggest  pieces.  With  these  brought  into 
action,  you  never  could  have  lost  the  battle  of 
Pavia.' 

"  Now  my  friend  Sir  Everard  is  not  quite  so 
good  a  historian  as  he  is  a  poet  ;  and  Monsieur 
Dubois  took  advantage  of  him. 

"  '  Pardon  !  Monsieur  Sir  Everard  !  '  said 
Monsieur  Dubois,  smiling  at  my  friend's  slip, 
'  We  did  not  lose  the  battle  of  Pavia.  We  had 
the  misfortune  to  lose  our  king,  who  delivered 
himself  up,  as  our  kings  always  do,  for  the  good 
and  glory  of  his  country.' 

"  '  How  was  this  ?'  said  Sir  Everard,  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  '  I  will  tell  you,  Monsieur  Sir  Everard  1  ' 
said  Monsieur  Dubois.  '  I  had  it  from  my 
own  father,  who  fought  in  the  battle,  and  told 
my  mother,  word  for  word. 

"  '  The  king  seeing  his  household  troops, 
being    only   one    thousand    strong,    surrounded 


William  Sbakspeare,  etc.  143 

by  twelve  regiments,  the  best  Spanish  troops, 
amounting  to  eighteen  thousand  four  hundred 
and  forty-two,  although  he  doubted  not  of  vic- 
tory, yet  thought  he  might  lose  many  brave 
men  before  the  close  of  the  day,  and  rode  up 
instantly  to  King  Charles,  and  said,  — 

<«  «  <'  My  brother  1  I  am  loath  to  lose  so  many 
of  those  brave  men  yonder.  Whistle  off  your 
Spanish  pointers,  and  I  agree  to  ride  home  with 
you." 

"  '•  And  so  he  did.  But  what  did  King 
Charles  ?  Abusing  French  loyalty,  he  made  our 
Francis  his  prisoner,  would  you  believe  it  ?  and 
treated  him  worse  than  ever  badger  was  treated 
at  the  bottom  of  any  paltry  stable-yard,  putting 
upon  his  table  beer  and  Rhenish  wine  and  wild 
boar.' 

"  I  have  digressed  with  thee,  young 'man," 
continued  the  knight,  much  to  the  improve- 
ment of  my  knowledge,  I  do  reverentially  con- 
fess, as  it  was  of  the  lad's.  "  We  will  now," 
said  he,  "  endeavour  our  best  to  sober  thee, 
finding  that  Doctor  Glaston  hath  omitted 
it." 

"  Not  entirely  omitted  it,"  said  William, 
gratefully  ;  "  he  did  after  dinner  all  that  could 
be  done  at  such  a  time  toward  it.  The  doctor 
could,  however,  speak  only  of  the  Greeks  and 


144  Examination  of 

Romans,  and  certainly  what  he  said  of  them  gave 
me  but  little  encouragement," 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"What  said  he  ?" 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  He  said,  '  The  Greeks  conveyed  all  their 
wisdom  into  their  theatre,  —  their  stages  were 
churches  and  parliament-houses  ;  but  what  was 
false  prevailed  over  what  was  true.  They  had 
their  own  wisdom,  the  wisdom  of  the  foolish; 
Who  is  Sophocles,  if  compared  to  Doctor  Ham- 
mersley  of  Oriel  ?  or  Euripides,  if  compared  to 
Doctor  Prichard  of  Jesus  ?  Without  the  Gos- 
pel, light  is  darkness  ;  and  with  it,  children  are 
giants. 

"  '  William,  I  need  not  expatiate  on  Greek 
with  thee,  since  thou  knowest  it  not,  but  some 
crumbs  of  Latin  are  picked  up  by  the  callowest 
beaks.  The  Romans  had,  as  thou  findest,  and 
have  still,  more  taste  for  murder  than  morality, 
and,  as  they  could  not  find  heroes  among  them, 
looked  for  gladiators.  Their  only  very  high 
poet  employed  his  elevation  and  strength  to 
dethrone  and  debase  the  Deity.  They  had 
several  others,  who  polished  their  language  and 
pitched  their  instruments  with  admirable  skill  ; 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  145 

several  who  glued  over  their  thin  and  flimsy 
gaberdines  many  bright  feathers  from  the  wide- 
spread downs  of  Ionia,  and  the  richly  cultivated 
rocks  of  Attica. 

"  '  Some  of  them  have  spoken  from  inspira- 
tion ;  for  thou  art  not  to  suppose  that  from  the 
heathen  were  withheld  all  the  manifestations  of 
the  Lord.  We  do  agree  at  Oxford  that  the 
PoUio  of  Virgil  is  our  Saviour.  True,  it  is  the 
dullest  and  poorest  poem  that  a  nation  not  very 
poetical  hath  bequeathed  unto  us  ;  and  even  the 
versification,  in  which  this  master  excelled,  is 
wanting  in  fluency  and  sweetness.  I  can  only 
account  for  it  from  the  weight  of  the  subject. 
Two  verses,  which  are  fairly  worth  two  hundred 
such  poems,  are  from  another  pagan  ;  he  was 
forced  to  sigh  for  the  church  without  knowing 
her.     He  saith,  — 

"  May  I  gaze  upon  thee  when  my  latest  hour  is  come  I 
May  I  hold  thy  hand  when  mine  faileth  me  ! " 

This,    if  adumbrating  the  church,   is   the  most 

beautiful  thought  that  ever  issued  from  the  heart 

of  man  ;  but  if  addressed  to  a  wanton,   as  some 

do  opine,  is  filth  from  the  sink,   nauseating  and 

insuff"erable. 

"■  '  William !    that   which    moveth    the    heart 

most  is  the  best  poetry  ;  it  comes  nearest  unto 

God,  the  source  of  all  power." " 


146  Examination  of 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Yea  ;  and  he  appeareth  unto  me  to  know 
more  of  poetry  than  of  divinity.  Those  ancients 
have  little  flesh  upon  the  body  poetical,  and  lack 
the  savour  that  sufficeth.  The  Song  of  Solomon 
drowns  all  their  voices  :  they  seem  but  whistlers 
and  guitar-players  compared  to  a  full-cheeked 
trumpeter ;  they  standing  under  the  eaves  in 
some  dark  lane,  he  upon  a  well-caparisoned 
stallion,  tossing  his  mane  and  all  his  ribbons 
to  the  sun.  I  doubt  the  doctor  spake  too  fondly 
of  the  Greeks ;  they  were  giddy  creatures. 
William,  I  am  loath  to  be  hard  on  them  ;  but 
they  please  me  not.  There  are  those  now 
living  who  could  make  them  bite  their  nails  to 
the  quick,  and  turn  green  as  grass  with  envy." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Sir,  one  of  those  Greeks,  methinks,  thrown 
into  the  pickle-pot,  would  be  a  treasure  to  the 
housewife's  young  jerkins." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Simpleton  I  simpleton  I  but  thou  valuest 
them  justly.  Now  attend.  If  ever  thou 
shouldst  hear,  at  Oxford  or  London,  the  verses 
I  am  about  to  repeat,  prithee  do  not  communi- 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  147 

cate  them  to  that  fiery  spirit  Mat  Atterend.  It 
might  not  be  the  battle  of  two  hundreds,  but 
two  counties ;  a  sort  of  York  and  Lancaster 
war,  whereof  I  would  wash  my  hands.  Listen  I  " 
And  now  did  Sir  Thomas  clear  his  voice, 
always  high  and  sonorous,  and  did  repeat  from 
the  stores  of  his  memory  these  rich  and  proud 
verses,  — 

"  '  Chloe  I  mean  men  must  ever  make  mean  loves  ; 
They  deal  in  dog-roses,  but  I  in  cloves. 
They  are  just  scorch'd  enough  to  blow  their  fingers; 
I  am  a  phoenix  downright  burnt  to  cinders.'  " 

At  which  noble  conceits,  so  far  above  what 
poor  Bill  had  ever  imagined,  he  lifted  up  his 
eyes  to  heaven,  and  exclaimed, — 

"  The  world  itself  must  be  reduced  to  that 
condition  before  such  glorious  verses  die ! 
Chloe  and  Clove  !  Why,  sir  !  Chloe  wants  but 
a  V  toward  the  tail  to  become  the  very  thing  ! 
Never  tell  me  that  such  matters  can  come  about 
of  themselves.  And  how  truly  is  it  said  that  we 
mean  men  deal  in  dog-roses. 

"  Sir,  if  it  were  permitted  me  to  swear  on 
that  holy  Bible,  I  would  swear  I  never  until 
this  day  heard  that  dog-roses  were  our  provender ; 
and  yet  did  I,  no  longer  ago  than  last  summer, 
write,  not  indeed  upon  a  dog-rose,  but  upon  a 


148  Examination  of 

sweet-briar,  what  would  only  serve  to  rinse  the 
mouth  withal  after  the  clove." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Repeat  the  same,  youth.  We  may  haply 
give  thee  our  counsel  thereupon." 

Willy  took  heart,  and  lowering  his  voice, 
which  hath  much  natural  mellowness,  repeated 
these  from  memory  :  — 

"  My  briar  that  smelledst  sweet 
When  gentle  spring's  first  heat 

Ran  through  thy  quiet  veins,  — 
Thou  that  vvouldst  injure  none, 
But  wouldst  be  left  alone,  — 
Alone  thou  leavest  me,  and  nought  of  thine  remains. 

"  What  I  hath  no  poet's  lyre 
O'er  thee,  sweet-breathing  briar, 

Hung  fondly,  ill  or  well  ? 
And  yet  methinks  with  thee 
A  poet's  sympathy, 
Whether  in  weal  or  woe,  in  life  or  death,  might  dwell. 

"  Hard  usage  both  must  bear. 
Few  hands  your  youth  will  rear, 

Few  bosoms  cherish  you  ; 
Your  tender  ])rime  must  bleed 
Ere  you  are  sweet,  but  freed 
From  life,  you  then  are  prized  ;  thus  prized  are  poets  too." 

Sir  Thomas  said,  with  kind  encouragement, 
"  He  who  beginneth  so  discreetly  with  a  dog- 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  149 

rose,  may  hope  to  encompass  a  damask-rose  ere 
he  die." 

Willy  did  now  breathe  freely.  The  com- 
mendation of  a  knight  and  magistrate  worked 
powerfully  within  him  ;  and  Sir  Thomas  said 
furthermore,  — 

"These  short  matters  do  not  suit  me.  Thou 
mightest  have  added  some  moral  about  life  and 
beauty,  —  poets  never  handle  roses  without  one  ; 
but  thou  art  young,  and  mayest  get  into  the 
train."' 

Willy  made  the  best  excuse  he  could  ;  and 
no  bad  one  it  was,  the  knight  acknowledged  ; 
namely,  that  the  sweet-briar  was  not  really  dead, 
although  left  for  dead. 

"  Then,"  said  Sir  Thomas,  "  as  life  and 
beauty  would  not  serve  thy  turn,  thou  mightest 
have  had  full  enjoyment  of  the  beggar,  the  way- 
side, the  thieves,  and  the  good  Samaritan,  — 
enough  to  tapestry  the  bridal  chamber  of  an 
empress." 

William  bowed  respectfully,  and  sighed. 

"  Ha  I  thou  hast  lost  them,  sure  enough,  and 
It  may  not  be  quite  so  fair  to  smile  at  thy  quan- 
dary," quoth  Sir  Thomas. 

"  I  did  my  best  the  first  time,"  said  Willy, 
"and  fell  short  the  second." 

"That,  indeed,  thou  must  have  done,"  said 


150  Examination  of 

Sir  Thomas.  "  It  is  a  grievous  disappointment, 
in  the  midst  of  our  lamentations  lor  the  dead, 
to  find  ourselves  balked.  I  am  curious  to 
see  how  thou  couldst  help  thyself.  Don't  be 
abashed  ;  I  am  ready  for  even  worse  than  the 
last." 

Bill  hesitated,  but  obeyed  :  — 

"  And  art  thou  yet  alive  ? 
And  shall  the  happy  hive 

Send  out  her  youth  to  cull 
Thy  sweets  of  leaf  and  flower, 
And  spend  the  sunny  hour 
With  thee,  and  thy  faint  heart  with  murmuring  music  lull  ? 

"  Tell  me  what  tender  care, 
Tell  me  what  pious  prayer. 

Bade  thee  arise  and  live. 
The  fondest-favoured  bee 
Shall  whisper  nought  to  thee 
More  loving  than  the  song  my  grateful  muse  shall  give." 

Sir  Thomas  looked  somewhat  less  pleased  at 
the  conclusion  of  these  verses  than  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  former,  and  said,  gravely,  — 

"  Young  man  I  methinks  it  is  betimes  that 
thou  talkest  of  having  a  muse  to  thyself ;  or  even 
in  common  with  others.  It  is  only  great  poets 
who  have  muses  ;  I  mean  to  say  who  have  the 
right  to  talk  in  that  fashion.  The  French,  I 
hear,  Phcebus  it  and  nmsc-me  it  right  and  left  ; 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  151 

and  boggle  not  to  throw  all  nine,  together  with 
mother  and  master,  into  the  compass  of  a  dozen 
lines  or  thereabout.  And  your  Italian  can 
hardly  do  without  'em  in  the  multiplication-table. 
We  Englishmen  do  let  them  in  quietly,  shut  the 
door,  and  say  nothmg  of  what  passes.  I  have 
read  a  whole  book  of  comedies,  and  ne'er  a 
muse  to  help  the  lamest." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Wonderful  forbearance  !  I  marvel  how  the 
poet  could  get  through." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  By  God's  help.  And  I  think  we  did  as 
well  without  'em  ;  for  it  must  be  an  unabashable 
man  that  ever  shook  his  sides  in  their  company. 
They  lay  heavy  restraint  both  upon  laughing  and 
crying.  In  the  great  master  Virgil  of  Rome, 
they  tell  me  they  come  in  to  count  the  ships,  and 
having  cast  up  the  sum  total,  and  proved  it,  make 
off  again.  Sure  token  of  two  things,  —  first, 
that  he  held  'em  dog-cheap  ;  secondly,  that  he 
had  made  but  little  progress  (for  a  Lombard 
born)   in  book-keeping  at  double  entry. 

"  He,  and  every  other  great  genius,  began 
with  small  subject-matters,  gnats  and  the  like. 


152  Examinalion  of 

I  myself,  similar  unto  him,  wrote  upon  fruit.  I 
would  give  thee  some  copies  for  thy  copying,  if 
I  thought  thou  wouldst  use  them  temperately, 
and  not  render  them  common,  as  hath  befallen 
the  poetry  of  some  among  the  brightest  geniuses. 
I  could  shew  thee  how  to  say  new  things,  and 
how  to  time  the  same.  Before  my  day,  nearly 
all  the  flowers  and  fruits  had  been  gathered 
by  poets,  old  and  young,  from  the  cedar  of 
Lebanon  to  the  hyssop  on  the  wall;  roses 
went  up  to  Solomon,  apples  to  Adam,  and  so 
forth. 

"  Willy  I  my  brave  lad  I  I  was  the  first  that 
ever  handled  a  quince,  I  "11  be  sworn. 

"  Hearken  I 


'  Chloe  I  I  would  not  have  thee  wince, 
That  I  unto  thee  send  a  quince. 
I  would  not  have  thee  say  unto 't 
Begone  !  and  trample  't  underfoot, 
For,  trust  me,  't  is  no  fulsome  fruit. 
It  came  not  out  of  mine  own  garden. 
But  all  the  way  from  Ilenly  in  Arden, — 
Of  an  uncommon  fine  old  tree, 
Belonging  to  John  Asbury. 
And  if  that  of  it  thou  shalt  eat, 
'T  will  make  thy  breath  e'en  yet  more  sweet ; 
As  a  translation  here  doth  shew. 
On  fruit-trees,  by  jfean  Mirahcaii. 
The  frontispiece  is  printed  so. 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  153 

But  eat  it  with  some  wine  and  cake, 
Or  it  may  give  the  belly-ache. ^ 
This  doth  my  worthy  clerk  indite, 
I  sign, 

Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  Knight." 

"  Now,  Willy,  there  is  not  one  poet  or  lover 
in  twenty  who  careth  for  consequences.  Many 
hint  to  the  lady  what  to  do,  few  what  not  to  do  ; 
although  it  would  oftentimes,  as  in  this  case,  go 
to  one's  heart  to  see  the  upshot." 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  Bill,  in  all  humility,  "  I  would 
make  bold  to  put  the  parings  of  that  qumce 
under  my  pillow,  for  sweet  dreams  and  insights, 
if  Doctor  Glaston  had  given  me  encouragement 
to  continue  the  pursuit  of  poetry.  Of  a  surety 
it  would  bless  me  with  a  bedful  of  churches  and 
crucifixions,  duly  adumbrated." 

Whereat  Sir  Thomas,  shaking  his  head,  did 
inform  him,  — 

"It  was  in  the  golden  age  of  the  world,  as 
pagans  call  it,  that  poets  of  condition  sent  fruits 
and  flowers  to  their  beloved,  with  posies  fairly 

1  Belly-ache,  a  disorder  once  not  uncommon  in  Eng- 
land. Even  the  name  is  now  almost  forgotten  ;  yet  the 
elder  of  us  may  remember  at  least  the  report  of  it,  and 
some,  perhaps,  even  the  complaint  itself,  in  our  school- 
days It  usually  broke  out  about  the  cherry  season; 
and  in  some  cases  made  its  appearance  again  at  the  first 
nuttinj;. 


154  Examination  of 

penned.  We,  in  our  days,  have  done  the  like. 
But  manners  of  late  are  much  corrupted  on  the 
one  side,  if  not  on  both. 

"Willy!  it  hath  been  whispered  that  there 
be  those  who  would  rather  have  a  piece  of  bro- 
cade or  velvet  for  a  stomacher  than  the  touch- 
ingest  copy  of  verses,  with  a  bleeding  heart  at 
the  bottom." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Incredible  I  " 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  T  is  even  so  1  " 

"WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  They  must  surely  be  rotten  fragments  of 
the  world  before  the  flood,  — saved  out  of  it  by 
the  devil." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

'•  I  am  not  of  that  mind. 

"Their  eyes,  mayhap,  fell  upon  some  of  the 
bravery  cast  ashore  from  the  Spanish  Armada. 
In  ancienter  days,  a  few  pages  of  good  poetry 
outvalued  a  whole  ell  of  the  finest  Genoa." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  When  will  such  days  return  }  " 


IVilliatn  Shahspeare,  etc.  155 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  It  is  only  within  these  few  years  that  cor- 
ruption and  avarice  have  made  such  ghastly 
strides.  They  always  did  exist,  but  were 
gentler. 

"  My  youth  is  waning,  and  has  been  nigh 
upon  these  seven  years,  I  being  now  in  my 
forty-eighth." 

■WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  have  understood  that  the  god  of  poetry  is 
in  the  enjoyment  of  eternal  youth  ;  I  was  igno- 
rant that  his  sons  were." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

'•  No,  child  I  we  are  hale  and  comely,  but 
must  go  the  way  of  all  flesh." 

•WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Must  it,  can  it,  be  ?" 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"Time  was,  my  smallest  gifts  were  accept- 
able, as  thus  recorded  :  — 

"  From  my  fair  hand,  O  will  ye,  will  ye 
Deign  humbly  to  accept  a  gilly- 

Flower  for  thy  bosom,  sugared  maid  ! 


156  Examination  of 

"  Scarce  had  I  said  it  ere  she  took  it, 
And  in  a  twinkling,  faith  1  had  stuck  it, 

Where  e'en  proud  knighthood  might  have  laid." 

William  was  now  quite  unable  to  contain  him- 
self, and  seemed  utterly  to  have  forgotten  the 
grievous  charge  against  him  ;  to  such  a  pitch 
did  his  joy  o'erleap  his  jeopardy. 

Master  Silas  in  the  meantime  was  much  dis- 
quieted ;  and  first  did  he  strip  away  all  the  white 
feather  from  every  pen  in  the  inkpot,  and  then 
did  he  mend  them,  one  and  all,  and  then  did  he 
slit  them  with  his  thumb-nail,  and  then  did  he 
pare  and  slash  away  at  them  again,  and  then  did 
he  cut  off  the  tops,  until  at  last  he  left  upon 
them  neither  nib  nor  plume,  nor  enough  of  the 
middle  to  serve  as  quill  to  a  virginal.  It  went 
to  my  heart  to  see  such  a  power  of  pens  so 
wasted  ;  there  could  not  be  fewer  than  five. 
Sir  Thomas  was  less  wary  than  usual,  being 
overjoyed.  For  great  poets  do  mightly  affect 
to  have  little  poets  under  them  ;  and  little  poets 
do  forget  themselves  in  great  company,  as  fid- 
dlers do,  who  hail  fellow  well  met  even  with 
lords. 

Sir  Thomas  did  not  interrupt  our  Bill's  wild 
gladness.  I  never  thought  so  worshipful  a  per- 
sonage could  bear  so  much.  At  last  he  said  un- 
to the  lad,  — 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  157 

"  I  do  bethink  me,  if  thou  hearest  much 
more  of  my  poetry,  and  the  success  attendant 
thereon,  good  Doctor  Glaston  would  tear  thy 
skirt  off  ere  he  could  drag  thee  back  from  the 
occupation." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  fear  me,  for  once,  all  his  wisdom  would 
sluice  out  in  vain." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  It  was  reported  to  me  that  when  our 
virgin  queen's  highness  (her  Dear  Dread's^  ear 
not  being  then  poisoned)  heard  these  verses, 
she  said  before  her  courtiers,  to  the  sore  travail 
of  some,  and  heart's  content  of  others, — 

"  '  We  need  not  envy  our  young  cousin 
James  of  Scotland  his  ass's  bite  of  a  thistle,  hav- 
ing such  flowers  as  these  gillyflowers  on  the 
chimney-stacks  of  Charlecote.' 

"  I  could  have  told  her  highness  that  all  this 
poetry,  from  beginning  to  end,  was  real  matter 
of  fact,  well  and  truly  spoken  by  mine  own  self. 
I  had  only  to  harness  the  rhymes  thereunto,  at 
my  leisure." 

1  Sir  Thomas  borrowed  this  expression  from  Spenser, 
who  thus  calls  Queen  Elizabeth. 


158  Exdini nation  of 

"WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  None  could  ever  doubt  it.  Greeks  and 
Trojans  may  fight  for  the  quince  ;  neither  shall 
have  it 

While  a  Warwickshire  lad 

Js  on  earth  to  be  had, 

With  a  wand  to  wag 

On  a  trusty  nag, 

He  shall  keep  the  lists 

With  cudgel  or  fists. 

And  black  shall  be  whose  eye 

Looks  evil  on  Lucy." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

"  Nay,  nay,  nay  !  do  not  trespass  too  soon 
upon  heroics.  Thou  seest  thou  canst  not  hold 
thy  wind  beyond  eight  lines.  What  wouldst 
thou  do  under  the  heavy  mettle  that  should 
have  wrought  such  wonders  at  Pavia,  if  thou 
findest  these  petards  so  troublesome  in  dis- 
charging ?  Surely,  the  good  doctor,  had  he 
entered  at  large  on  the  subject,  would  have 
been  very  particular  in  urging  this  expostula- 
tion." 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  Sir,  to  my  mortification  I  must  confess  that 
I  took  to  myself  the  counsel  he  was  giving  to 
another ;  a  young  gentleman  who.  from  his  pale 


William  SJmkspeare,  etc.  159 

face,  his  abstinence  at  table,  his  cough,  his  taci- 
turnity, and  his  gentleness,  seemed  already  more 
than  half  poet.  To  him  did  Doctor  Glaston 
urge,  with  all  his  zeal  and  judgment,  many  argu- 
ments against  the  vocation  ;  telling  him  that, 
even  in  college,  he  had  few  applauders,  being 
the  first,  and  not  the  second  or  third,  who  al- 
ways are  more  fortunate  ;  reminding  him  that 
he  must  solicit  and  obtain  much  interest  with 
men  of  rank  and  quality,  before  he  could  expect 
their  favour ;  and  that  without  it  the  vein  chilled, 
the  nerve  relaxed,  and  the  poet  was  left  at  next 
door  to  the  bellman.  *  In  the  coldness  of  the 
world,'  said  he,  '  in  the  absence  of  ready  friends 
and  adherents,  to  light  thee  upstairs  to  the  richly 
tapestried  chamber  of  the  muses,  thy  spirits  will 
abandon  thee,  thy  heart  will  sicken  and  swell 
within  thee ;  overladen,  thou  wilt  make,  O 
Ethelbert  I  a  slow  and  painful  progress,  and  ere 
the  door  open,  sink.  Praise  giveth  weight  unto 
the  wanting,  and  happiness  giveth  elasticity 
unto  the  heavy.  As  the  mightiest  streams  of  the 
unexplored  world,  America,  run  languidly  in  the 
night, ^  and  await  the  sun  on  high  to  contend 
with  him  in  strength  and  grandeur,  so  doth 
genius  halt  and  pause  in  the  thraldom  of  out- 

1  Humboldt  notices  this. 


i6o  Examination  of 

spread  darkness,  and  move  onward  with  all  his 
vigour  then  only  when  creative  light  and  jubilant 
warmth  surround  him.' 

"  Ethelbert  coughed  faintly  ;  a  tinge  of  red, 
the  size  of  a  rose-bud,  coloured  the  middle  of 
his  cheek  ;  and  yet  he  seem.ed  not  to  be  pained 
by  the  reproof.  He  looked  fondly  and  affec- 
tionately at  his  teacher,  who  thus  proceeded  : 

"  '  My  dear  youth,  do  not  carry  the  stone  of 
Sisyphus  on  thy  shoulder  to  pave  the  way  to 
disappointment.  If  thou  writest  but  indifferent 
poetry  none  will  envy  thee,  and  some  will  praise 
thee  ;  but  nature,  in  her  malignity,  hath  denied 
unto  thee  a  capacity  for  the  enjoyment  of  such 
praise.  In  this  she  hath  been  kinder  to  most 
others  than  to  thee  ;  we  know  wherein  she  hath 
been  kinder  to  thee  than  to  most  others.  If 
thou  writest  good  poetry  many  will  call  it  flat, 
many  will  call  it  obscure,  many  will  call  it  in- 
harmonious ;  and  some  of  these  will  speak  as 
they  think  ;  for,  as  in  giving  a  feast  to  great 
numbers,  it  is  easier  to  possess  the  wine  than  to 
procure  the  cups,  so  happens  it  in  poetry  ;  thou 
hast  the  beverage  of  thy  own  growth,  but  canst 
not  find  the  recipients.  What  is  simple  and 
elegant  to  thee  and  me,  to  many  an  honest  man 
is  flat  and  sterile  ;  what  to  us  is  an  innocently 
sly  allusion,  to  as  worthy  a  one  as  either  of  us 


IVilliaiu  Sbakspeare,  etc.  i6i 

is  dull  obscurity ;  and  that  moreover  which 
swims  upon  our  brain,  and  which  throbs  against 
our  temples,  and  which  we  delight  in  sounding 
to  ourselves  when  the  voice  has  done  with  it, 
touches  their  ear,  and  awakens  no  harmony  in 
any  cell  of  it.  Rivals  will  run  up  to  thee  and 
call  thee  a  plagiary,  and,  rather  than  that  proof 
should  be  wanting,  similar  words  to  some  of 
thine  will  be  thrown  in  thy  teeth  out  of  Leviticus 
and  Deuteronomy. 

"  '  Do  you  desire  calm  studies  ?  Do  you  de- 
sire high  thoughts  ?  Penetrate  into  theology. 
What  is  nobler  than  to  dissect  and  discern  the 
opinions  of  the  gravest  men  upon  the  subtlest 
matters  }  And  what  glorious  victories  are  those 
over  Infidelity  and  Scepticism  !  How  much 
loftier,  how  much  more  lasting  in  their  effects, 
than  such  as  ye  are  invited  unto  by  what  this 
ingenious  youth  hath  contemptuously  and  truly 
called 

"  The  swaggering  drum,  and  trumpet  hoarse  with  rage." 

And  what  a  delightful  and  edifying  sight  it  is, 
to  see  hundreds  of  the  most  able  doctors,  all 
stripped  for  the  combat,  each  closing  with  his 
antagonist,  and  tugging  and  tearing,  tooth  and 
nail,  to  lay  down  and  establish  truths  v/hich 
have  been  floating  in  the  air  for  ages,  and  which 


1 62  Examination  of 

the  lower  order  of  mortals  are  forbidden  to  see, 
and  commanded  to  embrace.  And  then  the 
shouts  of  victory  I  And  then  the  crowns  of 
amaranth  held  over  their  heads  by  the  applaud- 
ing angels  !  Besides,  these  combats  have  other 
great  and  distinct  advantages.  Whereas,  in  the 
carnal,  the  longer  ye  contend  the  more  blows  do 
ye  receive ;  in  these  against  Satan,  the  more 
fiercely  and  pertinaciously  ye  drive  at  him,  the 
slacker  do  ye  find  him  ;  every  good  hit  makes 
him  redden  and  rave  with  anger,  but  diminishes 
its  effect. 

"  '  My  dear  friends,  who  would  not  enter  a 
service  in  which  he  may  give  blows  to  his 
mortal  enemy,  and  receive  none  ;  and  in  which 
not  only  the  eternal  gain  is  incalculable,  but  also 
the  temporal,  at  four-and-tvventy,  may  be  far 
above  the  emolument  of  generals,  who,  before 
the  priest  was  born,  had  bled  profusely  for  their 
country,  established  her  security,  brightened  her 
glory,  and  augmented  her  dominions  ? '  " 

At  this  pause  did  Sir  Thomas  turn  unto  Sir 
Silas,  and  asked,  — 

"  What  sayest  thou,  Silas  ?  " 

Whereupon  did  Sir  Silas  make  answer,  — 

"  I  say  it  is  so,  and  was  so,  and  should  be  so, 
and  shall  be  so.  If  the  queen's  brother  had  not 
sopped  the  priests  and  bishops  out  of  the  Catho- 


IVilUam  Shakspeare,  etc.  163 

lie  cup,  they  could  have  held  the  Catholic  cup 
in  their  own  hands,  instead  of  yielding  it 
into  his.  They  earned  their  money  ;  if  they 
sold  their  consciences  for  it,  the  business  is 
theirs,  not  ours.  I  call  this  facing  the  devil  with 
a  vengeance.  We  have  their  coats ;  no  matter 
who  made  'em,  —  we  have  'em,  I  say,  and  we 
will  wear  'em  ;  and  not  a  button,  tag,  or  tassel, 
shall  any  man  tear  away." 

Sir  Thomas  then  turned  to  Willy,  and  re- 
quested him  to  proceed  with  the  doctor's  dis- 
course, who  thereupon  continued  :  — 

"  '  Within  your  own  recollections,  how  many 
good,  quiet,  moffensive  men,  unendowed  with 
any  extraordinary  abilities,  have  been  enabled, 
by  means  of  divinity,  to  enjoy  a  long  life  in 
tranquillity  and  affluence  ? ' 

"  Whereupon  did  one  of  the  young  gentlemen 
smile,  and,  on  small  encouragement  from  Doctor 
Glaston  to  enounce  the  cause  thereof,  he  re- 
peated these  verses,  which  he  gave  afterward 
unto  me  :  — 

"  '  In  the  names  on  our  books 
Was  standing  Tom  Flooke's, 
Who  took  in  due  time  his  degrees  ; 
Which  when  he  had  taken, 
Like  Ascham  or  Bacon, 
By  night  he  could  snore  and  by  day  he  could  sneeze. 


1 64  Examination  of 

"  'Calm,  pithy,  pragmatical,^ 
Tom  Flooke  he  could  at  a  call 

Rise  up  like  a  hound  from  his  sleep  ; 
And  if  many  a  quarto 
lie  gave  not  his  heart  to, 

If  pellucid  in  lore,  in  his  cups  he  was  deep. 

"  '  He  never  did  harm, 

And  his  heart  might  be  warm, 

For  his  doublet  most  certainly  was  so ; 
And  now  has  Tom  Flooke 
A  quieter  nook 

Than  ever  had  Spenser  or  Tasso. 

"  '  He  lives  in  his  house, 

As  still  as  a  mouse, 
Until  he  has  eaten  his  dinner ; 

I?ut  then  doth  his  nose 

Outroar  all  the  woes 
That  encompass  the  death  of  a  sinner. 

"  '  And  there  oft  has  been  seen 
No  less  than  a  dean 

To  tarry  a  week  in  the  parish, 
In  October  and  March, 
When  deans  are  less  starch, 

And  days  are  less  gleamy  and  garish. 

"  '  That  Sunday  Tom's  eyes 
Look'd  always  more  wise. 

He  repeated  more  often  his  text ; 
Two  leaves  stuck  together, 
(The  fault  of  the  weather) 

And  .  .  .  ///(■  rc-s/  y  shall  hear  in  my  next. 

1  Pragmatical  hPTC  means  only  prtcisc. 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  165 

"  '  At  mess  he  lost  quite 

His  small  appetite, 
By  losing  his  friend  the  good  dean  ; 

The  cook's  sight  must  fail  her  ! 

The  eggs  sure  are  staler  ! 
The  beef,  too  !  — why,  what  can  it  mean  ? 

"  '  He  turned  off  the  butcher, 

To  the  cook  could  he  clutch  her, 

What  his  choler  had  done  there  's  no  saying  — 
'T  is  verily  said 
He  smote  low  the  cock's  head, 

And  took  other  pullets  for  laying.' 

"  On  this  being  concluded,  Doctor  Glaston 
said  he  shrewdly  suspected  an  indigestion  on  the 
part  of  Mr.  Thomas  Flooke,  caused  by  sitting 
up  late  and  studying  hard  with  Mr.  Dean  ;  and 
he  protested  that  theology  itself  should  not  carry 
us  into  the  rawness  of  the  morning  air,  particu- 
larly in  such  critical  months  as  March  and 
October,  in  one  of  which  the  sap  rises,  in  the 
other  sinks,  and  there  are  many  stars  very 
sinister." 

Sir  Thomas  shook  his  head,  and  declared  he 
would  not  be  uncharitable  to  rector,  or  dean,  or 
doctor,  but  that  certain  surmises  swam  upper- 
most. He  then  winked  at  Master  Silas,  who 
said,  incontinently,  — 

"  You  have  it.  Sir  Thomas  !  The  blind  buz- 
zards !  with  their  stars  and  saps  ! " 


1 66  Examination  of 

"Well,  but  Silas  I  you  yourself  have  told  us 
over  and  over  again,  in  church,  that  there  are 
arcana.'" 

"  So  there  are,  —  I  uphold  it,"  replied  Master 
Silas  ;  *'  but  a  fig  for  the  greater  part,  and  a  fig- 
leaf  for  the  rest.  As  for  these  signs,  they  are  as 
plain  as  any  page  in  the  Revelation." 

Sir  Thomas,  after  short  pondering,  said, 
scoffingly,  — 

"  In  regard  to  the  rawness  of  the  air  having 
any  effect  whatsoever  on  those  who  discourse 
orthodoxically  on  theology,  it  is  quite  as  absurd 
as  to  imagine  that  a  man  ever  caught  cold  in  a 
Protestant  church.  I  am  rather  of  opinion  that 
it  was  a  judgment  on  the  rector  for  his  evil- 
mindedness  toward  the  cook,  the  Lord  fore- 
knowing that  he  was  about  to  be  wilful  and 
vengeful  in  that  quarter.  It  was,  however,  more 
advisedly  that  he  took  other  pullets,  on  his  own 
view  of  the  case,  although  it  might  be  that  the 
same  pullets  would  suit  him  again  as  well  as 
ever,  when  his  appetite  should  return  ;  for  it 
doth  not  appear  that  they  were  loath  to  lay,  but 
laid  somewhat  unsatisfactorily. 

"  Now,  youth,"  continued  his  worship,  "  if  in 
our  clemency  we  should  spare  thy  life,  study 
this  higher  elegiacal  strain  which  thou  hast 
carried  with  thee   from  Oxford  ;   it  containeth, 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  167 

over  and  above  an  unusual  store  of  biography, 

much  sound  moral  doctrine,  for  those  who  are 

heedful  in  the  weighing  of  it.     And  what  can 

be  more  affecting  than  — 

'At  mess  he  lost  quite 
His  small  appetite, 
By  losing  his  friend  the  good  dean  '? 

And  what  an  insight  into  character !  Store  it 
up  ;  store  it  up  I  Small  appetite,  particular  ; 
good  dean,  generick.'" 

Hereupon  did  Master  Silas  jerk  me  with  his 
indicative  joint,  the  elbow  to  wit,  and  did  say 
in  my  ear,  — 

'^  He  means  deanery.  Give  me  one  of  those 
bones  so  full  of  marrow,  and  let  my  lord  bishop 
have  all  the  meat  over  it,  and  welcome.  If  a 
dean  is  not  on  his  stilts,  he  is  not  on  his  stumps  ; 
he  stands  on  his  own  ground  ;  he  is  a  noli-me- 
langerelarian.'' 

"  What  art  thou  saying  of  those  sectaries, 
good  Master  Silas  ?  "  quoth  Sir  Thomas,  not 
hearing  him  distinctly. 

"  I  was  talking  of  the  dean,"  replied  Master 
Silas.  "He  was  the  very  dean  who  wrote  and 
sang  that  song  called  the  Two  Jacks."" 

"  Hast  it }"  asked  he. 

Master  Silas  shook  his  head,  and,  trying  in 
vain  to  recollect  it.  said  at  last,  — 


1 68  Examination  of 

"  After  dinner  it  sometimes  pops  out  of  a 
filbert-shell  in  a  crack  ;  and  I  have  known  it 
float  on  the  first  glass  of  Herefordshire  cider  ;  it 
also  hath  some  affinity  with  very  stiff  and  old 
bottled  beer ;  but  in  a  morning  it  seemeth  unto 
me  like  a  remnant  of  over-night." 

"  Our  memory  waneth,  Master  Silas  !  "  quoth 
Sir  Thomas,  looking  seriously.  "  If  thou  couldst 
repeat  it,  without  the  grimace  of  singing,  it  were 
not  ill." 

Master  Silas  struck  the  table  with  his  fist, 
and  repeated  the  first  stave  angrily  ;  but  in  the 
second  he  forgot  the  admonition  of  Sir  Thomas, 
and  did  sing  outright,  — 

"  Jack  Calvin  and  Jack  Cade, 
Two  gentles  of  one  trade, 

Two  tinkers, 
Very  gladly  would  pull  down 
Mother  Church  and  Father  Crown, 
And  would  starve  or  would  drown 

Right  thinkers. 

"  Honest  man  !  honest  man  ! 
Fill  the  can,  fill  the  can, 

They  are  coming  !  they  are  coming  !  they  are  coming  I 
If  any  drop  be  left, 
It  might  tempt  'em  to  a  theft  — 

Zooks !  it  was  only  the  ale  that  was  humming." 

"In  the  first  stave,  gramercy  1  there  is  an 
awful    verity,"    quoth    Sir    Thomas ;    '•  but    I 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  169 

wonder  that  a  dean  should  let  his  skewer  slip 
out,  and  his  fat  catch  fire  so  wofully,  in  the 
second.  Light  stuff,  Silas,  fit  only  for  ale- 
houses." 

Master  Silas  was  nettled  in  the  nose,  and 
answered,  — 

"  Let  me  see  the  man  in  Warwickshire,  and 
in  all  the  counties  round,  who  can  run  at  such  a 
rate  with  so  light  a  feather  in  the  palm  of  his 
hand.  I  am  no  poet,  thank  God  !  but  I  know 
what  folks  can  do,  and  what  folks  cannot  do." 

"  Well,  Silas,"  replied  Sir  Thomas,  "  after 
thy  thanksgiving  for  being  no  poet,  let  us  have 
the  rest  of  the  piece." 

"  The  rest !  "  quoth  Master  Silas.  "  When 
the  ale  hath  done  with  its  humming,  it  is  time, 
methinks,  to  dismiss  it.  Sir,  there  never  was 
any  more  ;  you  might  as  well  ask  for  more  after 
Amen  or  the  see  of  Canterbury." 

Sir  Thomas  was  dissatisfied,  and  turned  off 
the  discourse  ;  and  peradventure  he  grew  more 
inclined  to  be  gracious  unto  Willy  from  the 
slight  rub  his  chaplain  had  given  him,  were  it 
only  for  the  contrariety.  When  he  had  collected 
his  thoughts  he  was  determined  to  assert  his 
supremacy  on  the  score  of  poetry. 

"  Deans,  I  perceive,  like  other  quality,"  said 
he,  "  cannot  run  on  long  together.     My  friend, 


I/O  Examination  of 

Sir  Everard  Starkeye,  could  never  overleap  four 
bars.  I  remember  but  one  composition  of  his, 
on  a  young  lady  who  mocked  at  his  inconsis- 
tency, in  calling  her  sometimes  his  Grace  and  at 
other  times  his  Muse. 

'  My  Grace  shall  Fanny  Carew  be, 
While  here  she  deigns  to  stay  ; 
And  (ah,  how  sad  the  change  for  me  !) 
My  Muse  when  far  away ! ' 

And  when  we  laughed  at  him  for  turning  his 
back  upon  her  after  the  fourth  verse,  all  he 
could  say  for  himself  was,  that  he  would  rather 
a  game  at  all  fours  with  Fanny,  than  ombre  and 
picquetwhh  the  finest  furbelows  in  Christendom. 
Men  of  condition  do  usually  want  a  belt  in  the 
course." 

Whereunto  said  Master  Silas,  — 

"  Men  out  of  condition  are  quite  as  liable  to 
lack  it,  methinks." 

"  Silas  !  Silas  I  "  replied  the  knight,  impa- 
tiently, "  prithee  keep  to  thy  divinity,  thy  strong 
hold  upon  Zion  ;  thence  none  that  faces  thee 
can  draw  thee  without  being  bitten  to  the  bone. 
Leave  poetry  to  me." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  quoth  Master  Silas,  ''  I 
will  never  ask  a  belt  from  her,  until  I  see  she 
can  afford  to  give  a  shirt.  She  has  promised  a 
belt,  indeed.  —  not  one.  however,  that  doth  much 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  171 

improve  the  wind, — to  this  lad  here,  and  will 
keep  her  word  ;  but  she  was  forced  to  borrow 
the  pattern  from  a  Carthusian  friar,  and  some- 
how it  slips  above  the  shoulder." 

"  I  am  by  no  means  sure  of  that,"  quoth  Sir 
Thomas.  "He  shall  have  fair  play.  He  car- 
rieth  in  his  mind  many  valuable  things,  whereof 
it  hath  pleased  Providence  to  ordain  him  the  de- 
pository. He  hath  laid  before  us  certain  sprigs 
of  poetry  from  Oxford,  trim  as  pennyroyal,  and 
larger  leaves  of  household  divinity,  the  most 
mildly-savoured,  —  pleasant  in  health  and  whole- 
some in  sickness." 

"  I  relish  not  such  mutton-broth  divinity," 
said  Master  Silas.  ''  It  makes  me  sick  in  order 
to  settle  my  stomach." 

"  We  may  improve  it,"  said  the  knight,  "  but 
first  let  us  hear  more." 

Then  did  William  Shakspeare  resume  Dr. 
Glaston's  discourse. 

"  '  Ethelbert !  I  think  thou  walkest  but  little  ; 
otherwise  I  should  take  thee  with  me,  some 
fine  fresh  morning,  as  far  as  unto  the  first 
hamlet  on  the  Cherwell.  There  lies  young 
Wellerby,  who,  the  year  before,  was  wont  to 
pass  many  hours  of  the  day  poetising  amid  the 
ruins  of  Godstow  nunnery.  It  is  said  that  he 
bore  a  fondness  toward  a  young  maiden  in  that 


172  Examination  of 

place,  formerly  a  village,  now  containing  but 
two  old  farm-houses.  In  my  memory  there 
were  still  extant  several  dormitories.  Some 
love-sick  girl  had  recollected  an  ancient  name, 
and  had  engraven  on  a  stone  with  a  garden-nail, 
which  lay  in  rust  near  it,  — 

"  POORE    ROSAMUND."' 

I  entered  these  precincts,  and  beheld  a  youth 
of  manly  form  and  countenance,  washing  and 
wiping  a  stone  with  a  handful  of  wet  grass  ;  and 
on  my  going  up  to  him,  and  asking  what  he  had 
found,  he  shewed  it  to  me.  The  next  time  I 
saw  him  was  near  the  banks  of  the  Cherwell. 
He  had  tried,  it  appears,  to  forget  or  overcome 
his  foolish  passion,  and  had  applied  his  whole 
mind  unto  study.  He  was  foiled  by  his  com- 
petitor ;  and  now  he  sought  consolation  in 
poetry.  Whether  this  opened  the  wounds  that 
had  closed  in  his  youthful  breast,  and  malignant 
Love,  in  his  revenge,  poisoned  it ;  or  whether 
the  disappointment  he  had  experienced  in  finding 
others  preferred  to  him,  first  in  the  paths  of  for- 
tune, then  in  those  of  the  muses,  —  he  was 
thought  to  have  died  broken-hearted. 

"  '  About  half  a  mile  from  St.  John's  College 
is  the  termination  of  a  natural  terrace,  with  the 
Cherwell  close  under  it.   in  some  places  bright 


William  Shakspeare,  etc,  173 

with  yellow  and  red  flowers  glancing  and  glow- 
ing through  the  stream,  and  suddenly  in  others 
dark  with  the  shadows  of  many  different  trees, 
in  broad,  overbending  thickets,  and  with  rushes 
spear-high,  and  party-coloured  fliags. 

'^ '  After  a  walk  in  Midsummer,  the  emersion 
of  our  hands  into  the  cool  and  closing  grass  is 
Surely  not  the  least  among  our  animal  delights. 
I  was  just  seated,  and  the  first  sensation  of  rest 
vibrated  in  me  gently,  as  though  it  were  music 
to  the  limbs,  when  I  discovered  by  a  hollow  in 
the  herbage  that  another  was  near.  The  long 
meadow-sweet  and  blooming  burnet  half  con- 
cealed from  me  him  whom  the  earth  was  about 
to  hide  totally  and  for  ever. 

"■  '  Master  Batchelor,'  said  I,  '  it  is  ill-sleep- 
ing by  the  v/ater-side.' 

"  '  No  answer  was  returned.  I  arose,  went 
to  the  place,  and  recognised  poor  Wellerby. 
His  brow  was  moist,  his  cheek  was  warm.  A 
few  moments  earlier,  and  that  dismal  lake  where- 
unto  and  wherefrom  the  waters  of  life,  the 
buoyant  blood,  ran  no  longer,  might  have  re- 
ceived one  vivifying  ray  reflected  from  my  poor 
casement.  I  might  not  indeed  have  comforted 
—  I  have  often  failed  ;  but  there  is  one  who 
never  has  ;  and  the  strengthener  of  the  bruised 
reed  should  have  been  with  us. 


174  Examination  of 

"  '  Remembering  that  his  mother  did  abide 
one  mile  further  on,  I  walked  forward  to  the 
mansion,  and  asked  her  what  tidings  she  lately 
had  received  of  her  son.  She  replied  that, 
having  given  up  his  mind  to  light  studies,  the 
fellows  of  the  college  would  not  elect  him. 
The  master  had  warned  him  beforehand  to 
abandon  his  selfish  poetry,  take  up  manfully  the 
quarterstaff  of  logic,  and  wield  it  for  St.  John's, 
come  who  would  into  the  ring.  "  '  We  want  our 
man,'"  said  he  to  me,  "  '  and  your  son  hath  failed 
us  in  the  hour  of  need.  Madam,  he  hath  been 
foully  beaten  in  the  schools  by  one  he  might 
have  swallowed,  with  due  exercise.'  " 

"  '  'M  rated  him,  told  him  I  was  poor,  and 
he  knew  it.  He  was  stung,  and  threw  himself 
upon  my  neck,  and  wept.  Twelve  days  have 
passed  since,  and  only  three  rainy  ones.  I  hear 
he  has  been  seen  upon  the  knoll  yonder  ;  but 
hither  he  hath  not  come.  I  trust  he  knows  at 
last  the  value  of  time,  and  I  shall  be  heartily 
glad  to  see  him  after  this  accession  of  knowl- 
edge. Twelve  days,  it  is  true,  are  rather  a  chink 
than  a  gap  in  time  ;  yet,  O  gentle  sir,  they  are 
that  chink  which  makes  the  vase  quite  valueless. 
There  are  light  words  which  may  never  be  shaken 
o(T  the  mind  they  fall  on.  My  child,  who  was 
hurt  by  me,  will  not  let  me  see  the  marks," 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  175 

"  '  "  Lady,"  said  I,  ''none  are  left  upon  him. 
Be  comforted  I  thou  shalt  see  him  this  hour. 
All  that  thy  God  hath  not  taken  is  yet  thine." 
She  looked  at  me  earnestly,  and  would  have 
then  asked  something,  but  her  voice  failed  her. 
There  was  no  agony,  no  motion,  save  in  the 
lips  and  cheeks.  Being  the  widow  of  one 
who  fought  under  Hawkins,  she  remembered 
his  courage  and  sustained  the  shock,  saying 
calmly,  "  God's  will  be  done  !  I  pray  that  he 
find  me  as  worthy  as  he  findeth  me  willing  to 
join  them." 

"  *  Now,  in  her  unearthly  thoughts  she  had 
led  her  only  son  to  the  bosom  of  her  husband  ; 
and  in  her  spirit  (which  often  is  permitted  to 
pass  the  gates  of  death  with  holy  love)  she  left 
them  both  with  their  Creator. 

"  'The  curate  of  the  village  sent  those  who 
should  bring  home  the  body  ;  and  some  days 
afterward  he  came  unto  me,  beseeching  me  to 
write  the  epitaph.  Being  no  friend  to  stone- 
cutters' charges,  I  entered  not  into  biography, 
but  wrote  these  few  words  :  — 

JOANNES   WELLERBY, 

LITERARUM    QU^SIVIT    GLORIAM, 

VIDET   DEI.'  " 


176  Examination  of 

"  Poor  tack  !  poor  tack  !  "  sourly  quoth 
Master  Silas.  "  If  your  wise  doctor  could  say 
nothing  more  about  the  fool,  who  died  like  a 
rotten  sheep  among  the  darnels,  his  Latin  might 
have  held  out  for  the  father,  and  might  have  told 
people  he  was  as  cool  as  a  cucumber  at  home, 
and  as  hot  as  pepper  in  battle.  Could  he  not 
find  room  enough  on  the  whinstone,  to  tell  the 
folks  of  the  village  how  he  played  the  devil 
among  the  dons,  burning  their  fingers  when 
they  would  put  thumbscrews  upon  us,  punching 
them  in  the  weasand  as  a  blacksmith  punches  a 
horse-shoe,  and  throwing  them  overboard  like 
bilgewater } 

"  Has  Oxford  lost  all  her  Latin  ?  Here  is  no 
capitani  Jiliiis ;  no  more  mention  of  family  than 
a  Welchman  would  have  allowed  him  ;  no  hie 
jacet ;  and,  worse  than  all,  the  devil  a  tittle  of 
spe  redemptionis,  or  anno  Doniini.'" 

"  Willy  1  "  quoth  Sir  Thomas,  "  I  shrewdly 
do  suspect  there  was  more,  and  that  thou  hast 
forgotten  it." 

"  Sir  1  "  answered  Willy,  "  I  wrote  not  down 
the  words,  fearing  to  mis-spell  them,  and  begged 
them  of  the  doctor,  when  I  took  my  leave  of 
him  on  the  morrow  ;  and  verily  he  wrote  down 
all  he  had  repeated.  I  keep  them  always  in  the 
tin-box  in  my  waistcoat-pocket,  among  the  eel- 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  177 

hooks,  on  a  scrap  of  paper  a  finger's  length  and 
breadth,  folded  in  the  middle  to  fit.  And  when 
the  eels  are  running,  I  often  take  it  out  and 
read  it  before  I  am  aware.  I  could  as  soon 
forget  my  own  epitaph  as  this." 

"  Simpleton ! "  said  Sir  Thomas,  with  his 
gentle,  compassionate  smile  ;  "  but  thou  hast 
cleared  thyself." 

SIR    SILAS. 

"  I  think  the  doctor  gave  one  idle  chap  as 
much  solid  pudding  as  he  could  digest,  with  a 
slice  to  spare  for  another." 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

'*  And  yet  after  this  pudding  the  doctor  gave 
him  a  spoonful  of  custard,  flavoured  with  a 
little  bitter,  which  was  mostly  left  at  the  bottom 
for  the  other  idle  chap." 

Sir  Thomas  not  only  did  endure  this  very 
goodnaturedly,  but  deigned  even  to  take  in 
good  part  the  smile  upon  my  countenance,  as 
though  he  were  a  smile  collector,  and  as  though 
his  estate  were  so  humble  that  he  could  hold  his 
laced  bonnet  (in  all  his  bravery)  for  bear  and 
fiddle. 

He  then  said  unto  Willy, 

"  Place  likewise  this  custard  before  us." 


178  Exammation  of 

"There  is  but  little  of  it;  the  platter  is 
shallow,"  replied  he  ;  "'twas  suited  to  Master 
Ethelbert's  appetite.     The  contents  were  these  : 

"'The  things  whereon  thy  whole  soul 
brooded  in  its  innermost  recesses,  and  with  all 
its  warmth  and  energy,  will  pass  unprized  and 
unregarded,  not  only  throughout  thy  lifetime  but 
long  after.  For  the  higher  beauties  of  poetry 
are  beyond  the  capacity,  beyond  the  vision  of 
almost  all.  Once  perhaps  in  half  a  century  a 
single  star  is  discovered,  then  named  and  regis- 
tered, then  mentioned  by  five  studious  men  to 
five  more  ;  at  last  some  twenty  say,  or  repeat  in 
writing,  what  they  have  heard  about  it.  Other 
stars  await  other  discoveries.  Few  and  solitary 
and  wide  asunder  are  those  who  calculate  their 
relative  distances,  their  mysterious  influences, 
their  glorious  magnitude,  and  their  stupendous 
height.  '  T  is  so,  believe  me,  and  ever  was  so, 
with  the  truest  and  best  poetry.  Homer,  they 
say,  was  blind  ;  he  might  have  been  ere  he  died, 
—  that  he  sat  among  the  blind,  we  are  sure. 

"  '  Happy  they  who,  like  this  young  lad  from 
Stratford,  write  poetry  on  the  saddle-bow  when 
their  geldings  are  jaded,  and  keep  the  desk  for 
better  purposes.' 

"The  young  gentlemen,  like  the  elderly,  all 
turned  their  faces  toward  me,  to  my  confusion, 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  179 

so  much  did  I  remark  of  sneer  and  scoff  at  my 
cost.  Master  Ethelbert  was  the  only  one  who 
spared  me.     He  smiled  and  said,  — 

"  *  Be  patient  I  From  the  higher  heavens  of 
poetry,  it  is  long  before  the  radiance  of  the 
brightest  star  can  reach  the  world  below.  We 
hear  that  one  man  finds  out  one  beauty,  another 
man  finds  out  another,  placing  his  observatory 
and  instruments  on  the  poet's  grave.  The 
worms  must  have  eaten  us  before  it  is  rightly 
known  what  we  are.  It  is  only  when  we  are 
skeletons  that  we  are  boxed  and  ticketed,  and 
prized  and  shewn.  Be  it  so  I  I  shall  not  be 
tired  of  waiting.'" 

"  Reasonable  youth  1 "  said  Sir  Thomas  ; 
"yet  both  he  and  Glaston  walk  rather  astrad- 
dle, methinks.  They  might  have  stepped  up  to 
thee  more  straightforwardly,  and  told  thee  the 
trade  ill  suiteth  thee,  having  little  fire,  little  fan- 
tasy, and  little  learning.  Furthermore,  that  one 
poet,  as  one  bull,  sufficeth  for  two  parishes,  and 
that  where  they  are  stuck  too  close  together 
they  are  apt  to  fire,  like  haystacks.  I  have 
known  it  myself;  I  have  had  my  malignants 
and  scoffers." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  never  could  have  thought  it  I  " 


i8o  Examination  of 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"There  again!  Another  proof  of  thy  inex- 
perience." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Mat  Atterend  I  Mat  Atterend  1  where  wert 
thou  sleeping?" 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*'  I  shall  now  from  my  own  stores  impart  unto 
thee  what  will  avail  to  tame  thee,  shewing  the 
utter  hopelessness  of  standing  on  that  golden 
weathercock,  which  supporteth  but  one  at  a 
time. 

"  The  passion  for  poetry  wherewith  Monsieur 
Dubois  would  have  inspired  me,  as  he  was 
bound  to  do,  being  paid  beforehand,  had  cold 
water  thrown  upon  it  by  that  unlucky  one,  Sir 
Everard.  He  ridiculed  the  idea  of  male  and 
female  rhymes,  and  the  necessity  of  trying  them 
as  rigidly  by  the  eye  as  by  the  ear, —  saying  to 
Monsieur  Dubois  that  the  palate,  in  which  the 
French  excel  all  mortals,  ought  also  to  be  con- 
sulted in  their  acceptance  or  rejection.  Mon- 
sieur Dubois  told  us  that  if  we  did  not  wish  to 
be  taught  French  verse,  he  would  teach  us 
English.  Sir  Everard  preferred  the  Greek  ;  but 
Monsieur  Dubois  would  not  engage  to  teach  the 


William  Shahspeare,  etc.  i8i 

mysteries  of  that  poetry  in  fewer  than  thirty  les- 
sons, —  having  (since  his  misfortunes)  forgotten 
the  letters  and  some  other  necessaries. 

"The  first  poem  I  ever  wrote  was  in  the 
character  of  a  shepherd,  to  Mistress  Anne 
Nanfan,  daughter  of  Squire  Fulke  Nanfan, 
of  Worcestershire,  at  that  time  on  a  visit  to 
the  worshipful  family  of  Compton  at  Long 
Compton. 

"  We  were  young  creatures, —  I  but  twenty- 
four  and  seven  months  (for  it  was  written  on  the 
14th  of  May),  and  she  well-nigh  upon  a  twelve- 
month younger.  My  own  verses,  the  first,  are 
neither  here  nor  there;  indeed,  they  were  im- 
bedded in  solid  prose,  like  lampreys  and  ram's- 
horns  ^  in  our  limestone,  and  would  be  hard  to 
get  out  whole.  What  they  are  may  be  seen  by 
her  answer,  all  in  verse  :  — 

" '  Faithful  shepherd  !   dearest  Tommy  I 
I  have  received  the  letter  from  ye, 

And  mightily  delight  therein. 
But  mother,  she  says,  "  Nanny!  Nanny  I 
How,  being  staid  and  prudent,  can  ye 

Think  of  a  man  and  not  0/  sin  ?  " 

1  It  is  doubtful  whether  Doctor  Buckland  will  agree 
with  Sir  Thomas  that  these  petrifactions  are  ram's-horns 
and  lampreys. 


1 82  Examination  of 

•'  Sir  shepherd  !   I  held  down  my  head, 
And  "  A/other  !  fie,  for  shame  !  "  I  said  ; 

All  I  could  say  would  not  content  her; 
Mother  she  would  for  ever  harp  on't, 
"  A  man  V  no  better  than  a  sarpent, 

And  not  a  crumb  more  innocenter."  ' 

"  I  know  not  how  it  happeneth  ;  but  a  poet 
doth  open  before  a  poet,  albeit  of  baser  sort. 
It  is  not  that  I  hold  my  poetry  to  be  better 
than  some  other  in  time  past,  it  is  because  I 
would  shew  thee  that  I  was  virtuous  and  wooed 
virtuously,  that  I  repeat  it.  Furthermore,  I 
wished  to  leave  a  deep  impression  on  the 
mother's  mind  that  she  was  exceedingly  wrong 
in  doubting  my  innocence. 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

*'  Gracious  Heaven  1  and  was  this  too 
doubted  ?  " 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*'  Maybe  not  ;  but  the  whole  race  of  men, 
the  whole  male  sex,  wanted  and  found  in  me  a 
protector.  I  shewed  her  what  I  was  ready 
to  do." 

"WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

•'  Perhaps,  sir,  it  was  for  that  very  thing  that 
she  put  the  daughter  back  and  herself  forward." 


William  Sbakspeare,  etc.  183 

SIR   THOMAS. 

•'I  say  not  so;  but  thou  mayest  know  as 
much  as  befitteth,  by  what  follows  :  — 

"  '  Worshipful  lady !  honoured  madam  I 
I  at  this  present  truly  glad  am 

To  have  so  fair  an  opportunity 
Of  saying  I  would  be  the  man 
To  bind  in  wedlock  Mistress  Anne, 

Living  with  her  in  holy  unity. 

"'And  for  a  jointure  I  will  gi'e  her 
A  good  two  hundred  pounds  a  year 

Accruing  from  my  landed  rents, 
Whereof  see  t'other  paper,  telling 
Lands,  copses,  and  grown  woods  for  felling, 

Capons,  and  cottage  tenements. 

"  '  And  who  must  come  at  sound  of  horn, 
And  who  pays  but  a  barley-corn. 

And  who  is  bound  to  keep  a  whelp, 
And  what  is  brought  me  for  the  pound, 
And  copyholders,  which  are  sound, 

And  which  do  need  the  leech's  help. 

"  '  And  you  may  see  in  these  two  pages 
Exact  their  illnesses  and  ages. 

Enough  (God  willing)  to  content  ye  ; 
Who  looks  full  red,  who  looks  full  yellow. 
Who  plies  the  mullen,  who  the  mallow. 

Who  fails  at  fifty,  who  at  twenty. 

" '  Jim  Yates  must  go ;  he  's  one  day  very  hot, 
And  one  day  ice ;  I  take  a  heriot ; 

And  poorly,  poorly 's  Jacob  Burgess. 


1 84  Examination  of 

The  doctor  tells  me  he  has  pour'd 
Into  his  stomach  half  his  hoard 
Of  anthelminticals  and  purges. 

"  '  Judith,  the  wife  of  Ebenezer 

Fillpots,  won't  have  him  long  to  tease  her  ; 

Fillpots  blows  hot  and  cold  like  Jim, 
And,  sleepless  lest  the  boys  should  plunder 
His  orchard,  he  must  soon  knock  under  ; 

Death  has  been  looking  out  for  him. 

" '  He  blusters  ;  but  his  good  yard  land 
Under  the  church,  his  ale-house,  and 

His  Bible,  which  he  cut  in  spite, 
Must  all  fall  in ;  he  stamps  and  swears 
And  sets  his  neighbours  by  the  ears  — 

Fillpots,  thy  saddle  sits  not  tight!  ' 

"  The  epitaph  is  ready  :  — 

'Here 
Lies  one  whom  all  his  friends  did  fear 

More  than  they  ever  feared  the  Lord ; 
In  peace  he  was  at  times  a  Christian  ; 
In  strife,  what  stubborner  Philistine  ! 

Sing,  si7tg  his  psalm  with  one  accord. 

"*  And  he  who  lent  my  lord  his  wife 
Has  but  a  very  ticklish  life  ; 

Although  she  won  him  many  a  hundred, 
'T  won't  do  ;  none  comes  with  briefs  and  wills, 
And  .ill  her  gainings  are  gilt  pills 

From  the  sick  madman  that  she  plundered. 


IVilliam  Shakspeare,  etc.  185 

"  '  And  the  brave  lad  who  sent  the  bluff 
Olive-faced  Frenchman  (sure  enough) 

Screaming  and  scouring  like  a  plover, 
Must  follow  — him  I  mean  who  dash'd 
Into  the  water  and  then  thrash'd 

The  cuUion  past  the  town  of  Dover. 

"  *  But  first  there  goes  the  blear  old  dame 
Who  nurs'd  me  ;  you  have  heard  her  name, 
No  doubt,  at  Compton,  Sarah  Salways; 
There  are  twelve  groats  at  once,  beside 
The  frying-pan  in  which  she  fried 
Her  pancakes. 

Madam,  I  am  always,  etc., 

Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  Knight.' 

*'  I  did  believe  that  such  a  clear  and  conscien- 
tious exposure  of  my  affairs  would  have  brought 
me  a  like  return.  My  letter  was  sent  back 
to  me  with  small  courtesy.  It  may  be  there 
was  no  paper  in  the  house,  or  none  equalling 
mine  in  whiteness.  No  notice  was  taken  of  the 
rent-roll ;  but  between  the  second  and  third 
stanza  these  four  lines  were  written,  in  a  very 
fine  hand  :  — 

*' '  Most  honour'd  knight,  Sir  Thomas  I  two 
For  merry  Nan  will  never  do  ; 
Now  under  favour  let  me  say  't, 
She  will  bring  more  herself  than  that.' 

I  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  worthy  lady 
did  neither  write  nor  countenance   the  same, 


1 86  Eaxmination  of 

perhaps  did  not  ever  know  of  them.  She  al- 
ways had  at  her  elbow  one  who  jogged  it  when 
he  listed,  and  although  he  could  not  overrule 
the  daughter,  he  took  especial  care  that  none 
other  should  remove  her  from  his  tutelage,  even 
when  she  had  fairly  grown  up  to  woman's 
estate. 

"  Now,  after  all  this  condescension  and  con- 
fidence, promise  me,  good  lad,  promise  that 
thou  wilt  not  edge  and  elbow  me.  Never  let 
it  be  said,  when  people  say,  Sir  Thomas  was  a 
poet  when  he  will  edit,  —  So  is  Bill  Shakspeare ! 
It  beseemeth  not  that  our  names  do  go  together 
cheek  by  jowl  in  this  familiar  fashion,  like  an 
old  beagle  and  a  whelp,  in  couples,  where  if  the 
one  would,  the  other  would  not." 

SIR   SILAS. 

"Sir,  while  these  thoughts  are  passing  in 
your  mind,  remember  there  is  another  pair  of 
couples  out  of  which  it  would  be  as  well  to  keep 
the  cur's  neck." 

SIR  THOMAS. 

**  Young  man  I  dost  thou  understand  Master 
Silas  ? " 

WILLIAM   SHAKSPEARE. 

**  But  too  well.  Not  those  couples  in  which 
it  might  be  apprehended  that  your  worship  and 


IVilliam  Shahspeare,  etc.  187 

my  unworthiness  should  appear  too  close  to- 
gether ;  but  those  sorrowfuller  which  peradven- 
ture  might  unite  Master  Silas  and  me  in  our  road 
to  Warwick  and  upwards.  But  I  resign  all  right 
and  title  unto  these  as  willingly  as  I  did  unto  the 
other,  and  am  as  ready  to  let  him  go  alone." 

SIR   SILAS, 

"If  we  keep  wheeling  and  wheeling,  like  a 
flock  of  pigeons,  and  rising  again  when  we  are 
within  a  foot  of  the  ground,  we  shall  never  fill 
the  craw." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

**  Do  thou  then  question  him,  Silas." 

SIR   SILAS. 

'*  I  am  none  of  the  quorum  ;  the  business  is 
none  of  mine." 

Then  Sir  Thomas  took  Master  Silas  again 
into  the  bay  window,  and  said  softly,  — 

"  Silas,  he  hath  no  inkling  of  thy  meaning. 
The  business  is  a  ticklish  one.  I  like  not  over- 
much to  meddle  and  make  therein." 

Master  Silas  stood  dissatisfied  awhile,  and 
then  answered,  — 

"  The  girl's  mother,  sir,  was  housemaid  and 
sempstress  in  your  own  family,  time  back,  and 


1 88  Examination  of 

you  thereby  have  a  right  over  her  unto  the  third 
and  fourth  generation." 

"  I  may  have,  Silas,"  said  his  worship,  "  but 
it  was  no  longer  than  four  or  five  years  agone 
that  folks  were  fain  to  speak  maliciously  of  me 
for  only  finding  my  horse  in  her  hovel." 

Sir  Silas  looked  red  and  shiny  as  a  ripe  straw- 
berry on  a  Snitterfield  tile,  and  answered  some- 
what peevishly,  — 

"The  same  folks,  I  misgive  me,  may  find  the 
rogue's  there  any  night  in  the  week." 

Whereunto  replied  Sir  Thomas,  mortifiedly, 
*'  I  cannot  think  it,  Silas  I   I  cannot  think  it." 
And  after  some  hesitation  and  disquiet,  — 
"Nay,    I  am  resolved  I   will  not   think   it  ; 
no  man,   friend  or  enemy,  shall  push    it    into 
me." 

"Worshipful  sir,"  answered  Master  Silas, 
"  I  am  as  resolute  as  any  one  in  what  I  would 
think  and  what  I  would  not  think,  and  never 
was  known  to  fight  dunghill  in  either  cockpit. 

"  Were  he  only  out  of  the  way,  she  might  do 
her  duty,  but  what  doth  she  now  ? 

"She  points  his  young  beard  for  him ;  per- 
suading him  it  grows  thicker  and  thicker,  blacker 
and  blacker ;  she  washes  his  ruff,  stiffens  it, 
plaits  it,  tries  it  upon  his  neck,  removes  the  hair 
from  under  it,  pinches  it  with  thumb  and  fore- 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  189 

finger,  pretending  that  he  hath  moiled  it,  puts 
her  hand  all  the  way  round  it,  setting  it  to  rights, 
as  she  calleth  it  — 

"  Ah,  Sir  Thomas  !  a  louder  whistle  than  that 
will  never  call  her  back  again  when  she  is  off 
with  him." 

Sir  Thomas  was  angered,  and  cried  tartly,  — 
*'  Who  whistled  ?  I  would  know." 
Master  Silas  said  submissively, — 
"  Your  honour,  as  wrongfully  I  fancied." 
"  Wrongfully,    indeed,   and  to  my  no    small 
disparagement  and  discomfort,"  said  the  knight, 
verily  believing  that  he  had   not  whistled ;  for 
deep  and  dubious  were  his  cogitations. 

^'  I  protest,"  went  he  on  to  say,  "  I  protest  it 
was  the  wind  of  the  casement ;  and  if  I  live 
another  year  I  will  put  a  better  in  the  place 
of  it.  Whistle  indeed  1  —  for  what  ?  I  care  no 
more  about  her  than  about  an  unfledged  cyg- 
net, —  a  child, ^  a  chicken,  a  mere  kitten,  a 
crab-blossom  in  the  hedge." 

The  dignity  of  his  worship  was  wounded  by 
Master  Silas  unaware,  and  his  wrath  again 
turned  suddenly  upon  poor  William. 

"  Hark-ye,  knave  1    hark-ye  again,  ill-looking 

1  She  was  then  twenty-eight  years  of  age.  Sir  Thomas 
must  have  spoken  of  her  from  earlier  recollections. 
Shakspeare  was  in  his  twentieth  year. 


I90  Examination  of 

stripling,  lanky  from  vicious  courses  1  I 
will  reclaim  thee  from  them  ;  I  will  do  what 
thy  own  father  would,  and  cannot.  Thou  shall 
follow  his  business." 

"  I  cannot  do  better,  may  it  please  your 
worship  I  "  said  the  lad. 

"  It  shall  lead  thee  unto  wealth  and  respecta- 
bility," said  the  knight,  somewhat  appeased  by 
his  ready  compliancy  and  low,  gentle  voice. 
"  Yea,  but  not  here,  —  no  witches,  no  wantons 
(this  word  fell  gravely  and  at  full-length  upon 
the  ear),  no  spells  hereabout. 

"  Gloucestershire  is  within  a  measured  mile 
of  thy  dwelling.  There  is  one  at  Bristol,  for- 
merly a  parish-boy,  or  little  better,  who  now 
writeth  himself  ^en//cman  in  large,  round  letters, 
and  hath  been  elected,  I  hear,  to  serve  as  bur- 
gess in  parliament  for  his  native  city  ;  just  as 
though  he  had  eaten  a  capon  or  turkey-poult  in 
his  youth,  and  had  actually  been  at  grammar 
school  and  college.  When  he  began,  he  had 
not  credit  for  a  goat-skin ;  and  now,  behold  ye  I 
this  very  coat  upon  my  back  did  cost  me  eight 
shillings  the  dearer  for  him,  he  bought  up  wool 
so  largely." 

WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  May  it  please  your  worship  !  if  my  father 
so  ordcreth,  I  go  cheerfully." 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  191 


SIR   THOMAS. 

"Thou  art  grown  discreet  and  dutiful  I  am 
fain  to  command  thy  release,  taking  thy  promise 
on  oath,  and  some  reasonable  security,  that  thou 
wilt  abstain  and  withhold  in  future  from  that 
idle  and  silly  slut,  that  sly  and  scoffing  giggler, 
Hannah  Hathaway,  with  whom,  to  the  heart- 
ache of  thy  poor,  worthy  father,  thou  wantonly 
keepest  company." 

Then  did  Sir  Thomas  ask  Master  Silas 
Gough  for  the  Book  of  Life,  bidding  him  de- 
liver it  into  the  right  hand  of  Billy,  with  an 
eye  upon  him  that  he  touch  it  with  both  lips,  — 
it  being  taught  by  the  Jesuits,  and  caught  too 
greedily  out  of  their  society  and  communion, 
that  whoso  toucheth  it  with  one  lip  only,  and 
thereafter  sweareth  falsely,  cannot  be  called  a 
perjurer,  since  perjury  is  breaking  an  oath. 
But  breaking  half  an  oath,  as  he  doth  who 
toucheth  the  Bible  or  crucifix  with  one  lip  only, 
is  no  more  perjury  than  breaking  an  eggshell 
is  breaking  an  egg,  the  shell  being  a  part,  and 
the  egg  being  an  integral. 

"William  did  take  the  Holy  Book  with  all  due 
reverence  the  instant  it  was  offered  to  his  hand. 
His  stature  seemed  to  rise  therefrom  as  from  a 
pulpit,  and  Sir  Thomas  was  quite  edified. 


192  Examination  of 

"Obedient  and  conducible  youth  !"  said  he. 
"See  there,  Master  Silas  !  what  hast  thou  now 
to  say  against  him  ?    Who  sees  farthest  ? " 

"The  man  from  the  gallows  is  the  most 
likely,  bating  his  nightcap  and  blinker,"  said 
Master  Silas,  peevishly,  "  He  hath  not  out- 
witted me  yet." 

"  He  seized  upon  the  Anchor  of  Faith  like  a 
martyr,"  said  Sir  Thomas,  "and  even  now 
his  face  burns  red  as  elder-wine  before  the 
gossips." 

■WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I  await  the  further  orders  of  your  worship 
from  the  chair." 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  I  return  and  seat  myself." 

And  then  did  Sir  Thomas  say  with  great 
complacency  and  satisfaction  in  the  ear  of 
Master  Silas,  — 

"What  civility,  and  deference,  and  sedate- 
ness  of  mind,  Silas  !  " 

But  Master  Silas  answered  not. 

■WILLIAM    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  Must  I  swear,  sir.^" 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  193 

SIR   THOMAS. 

"  Yea,  swear ;  be  of  good  courage,  I  pro- 
test to  thee  by  my  honour  and  knighthood,  no 
ill  shall  come  unto  thee  therefrom.  Thou  shalt 
not  be  circumvented  in  thy  simpleness  and  in- 
experience." 

"Willy,  having  taken  the  Book  of  Life,  did  kiss  it 
piously,  and  did  press  it  unto  his  breast,  saying, 

"  Tenderest  love  is  the  growth  of  my  heart, 
as  the  grass  is  of  Alvescote  mead. 

"  May  I  lose  my  life  or  my  friends,  or  my 
memory,  or  my  reason ;  may  I  be  viler  in  my 
own  eyes  than  those  men  are  —  " 

Here  he  was  interrupted,  most  lovingly,  by 
Sir  Thomas,  who  said  unto  him,  — 

"  Nay,  nay,  nay  !  poor  youth  !  do  not  tell  me 
so  I  they  are  not  such  very  bad  men,  since  thou 
appealest  unto  Caesar,  —  that  is,  unto  the  judg- 
ment-seat." 

Now  his  worship  did  mean  the  two  wit- 
nesses, Joseph  and  Euseby ;  and,  sooth  to  say 
there  be  many  worse.  But  William  had  them 
not  in  his  eye  ;  his  thoughts  were  elsewhere,  as 
will  be  evident,  for  he  went  on  thus  :  — 

*'  —  if  ever  I  forget  or  desert  thee,  or  ever 
cease  to  worship^  and  cherish  thee,  my  Hannah  I " 

1  It  is  to  be  feared  that  his  taste  for  venison  outlasted 
that  for  matrimony,  spite  of  this  vow. 
13 


194  Examination  of 

SIR    SILAS. 

"The  madman  I  the  audacious,  desperate, 
outrageous  villain  I  Look-ye,  sir  1  where  he 
flung  the  Holy  Gospel  I  Behold  it  on  the 
holly  and  box  boughs  in  the  chimney-place, 
spreaden  all  abroad,  like  a  lad  about  to  be 
whipped  1  " 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*' Miscreant  knave!  I  will  send  after  him 
forthwith  1 

*'  Ho,  there!  is  the  caitiff  at  hand,  or  run- 
ning off? " 

Jonas  Greenfield  the  butler  did  budge 
forward  after  a  while,  and  say,  on  being 
questioned,  — 

"  Surely,  that  was  he  I  Was  his  nag  tied  to 
the  iron  gate  at  the  lodge,  Master  Silas  ? " 

SIR    SILAS. 

"What  should  I  know  about  a  thief's  nag, 
Jonas  Greenfield  ?" 

*' And  didst  thou  let  him  go,  Jonas, — even 
thou?"  said  Sir  Thomas.  "What!  are  none 
found  faithful  ?  " 

"  Lord  love  your  worship,"  said  Jonas 
Greenfield;  "a  man  of  threescore  and  two 
may  miss  catching  a  kite  upon  wing.     Fleet- 


William  Shahspeare,  etc.  195 

ness   doth   not   make   folks   the  faithfuller,    or 
that  youth  yonder  beats  us  all  in  faithfulness. 

"  Look  1  he  darts  on  like  a  greyhound  whelp 
after  a  leveret.  He,  sure  enough,  it  was  I  I 
now  remember  the  sorrel  mare  his  father 
bought  of  John  Kinderley  last  Lammas,  swift 
as  he  threaded  the  trees  along  the  park.  He 
must  have  reached  Wellesbourne  ere  now  at 
that  gallop,  and  pretty  nigh  Walton-hill," 

SIR   THOMAS. 

*' Merciful  Christ !  grant  the  country  be  rid 
of  him  for  ever  1  "What  dishonour  upon  his 
friends  and  native  town  I  A  reputable  wool- 
stapler's  son  turned  gipsy  and  poet  for  life." 

SIR   SILAS. 

"  A  Beelzebub ;  he  spake  as  bigly  and 
fiercely  as  a  soaken  yeoman  at  an  election 
feast,  —  this  obedient  and  conducible  youth  I  " 

SIR    THOMAS. 

"  It  was  so  written.  Hold  thy  peace, 
Silas  1  " 

LAUS   DEO. 
E.    B. 


196  Examination  of 

POST-SCRIPTUM 

BY  ME,  EPHRAIM    BARNETT. 

'T^WELVE  days  are  over  and  gone  since  Wil- 
-*■  Ham  Shakspeare  did  leave  our  parts.  And 
the  spinster,  Hannah  Hathaway,  is  in  sad  dole- 
ful plight  about  him ;  forasmuch  as  Master 
Silas  Gough  went  yesterday  unto  her,  in  her 
mother's  house  at  Shottery,  and  did  desire  both 
her  and  her  mother  to  take  heed  and  be  admon- 
ished, that  if  ever  she,  Hannah,  threw  away 
one  thought  after  the  runagate  William  Shak- 
speare, he  should  swing. 

The  girl  could  do  nothing  but  weep ;  while  as 
the  mother  did  give  her  solemn  promise  that 
her  daughter  should  never  more  think  about 
him  all  her  natural  life,  reckoning  from  the 
moment   of  this   her   promise. 

And  the  maiden,  now  growing  more  reason- 
able, did  promise  the  same.  But  Master  Silas 
said, 

"  /  douht  you  will,  though." 

"  No,''  said  the  mother,  "  /  answer  for  her 
she  shall  not  think  of  him,  even  if  she  see  his 
ghost."' 


William  Shakspeare,  etc.  197 

Hannah  screamed,  and  swooned,  the  better 
to  forget  him.  And  Master  Silas  went  home 
easier  and  contenteder.  For  now  all  the  worst 
of  his  hard  duty  was  accomplished,  —  he  having 
been,  on  the  Wednesday  of  last  week,  at  the 
speech  of  Master  John  Shakspeare,  Will's 
father,  to  inquire  whether  the  sorrel  mare  was 
his.  To  which  question  the  said  Master  John 
Shakspeare  did  answer,  '*  Yea.'' 

'^  Enough  said!''  rejoined    Master  Silas. 

^^Horse-stealing  is  capital.  We  shall  bind 
thee  over  to  appear  against  the  culprit,  as  pros- 
ecutor, at  the  next  assises." 

May  the  Lord  in  his  mercy  give  the  lad 
a  good  deliverance,  if  so  be  it  be  no  sin  to 
wish   it  1 

October  i,  A.  D.  15S2. 


LAUS   DEO. 


A    CONFERENCE 

OF 

MASTER   EDMUND    SPENSER, 

A  GENTLEMAN   OF  NOTE, 
WITH 

THE   EARL   OF   ESSEX, 

TOUCHING 

THE  STATE   OF   IRELAND. 

ANNO   DOM.    1598. 


PREFACE. 


'T^O  the  same  worthy  man  who  preserved  the 
■*•  Examination  of  Shakspeare,  we  are  in- 
debted for  what  he  entitles  on  the  cover,  A 
Conference  of  Master  Edmund  Spenser,  etc., 
with  the  Earl  of  Essex.  It  must  be  confessed 
that  this  Conference  throws  little  light  upon 
the  great  rebellion  of  Ireland.  Nevertheless, 
there  are  some  curious  minds,  which  perhaps 
may  take  an  interest  in  the  conversation  of  two 
illustrious  men,  one  distinguished  by  his  genius, 
the  other  by  the  favour  of  his  sovereign.  The 
Editor,  it  will  be  perceived,  is  but  little  prac- 
tised in  the  ways  of  literature  ;  much  less  is  he 
gifted  with  that  prophetic  spirit  which  can  anti- 
cipate the  judgment  of  the  public.  It  may  be 
that  he  is  too  idle  or  too  apathetic  to  think 
anxiously  or  much  about  the  matter  ;  and  yet  he 
has  been  amused,  in  his  earlier  days,  at  watch- 
ing the  first  appearance  of  such  few  books  as  he 
believed  to  be  the  production  of  some  powerful 


202  Preface. 

intellect.  He  has  seen  people  slowly  rise  up  to 
them,  like  carp  in  a  pond  when  food  is  thrown 
among  them ;  some  of  which  carp  snatch  sud- 
denly at  a  morsel,  and  swallow  it ;  others  touch 
it  gently  with  their  barbe,  pass  deliberately  by, 
and  leave  it ;  others  wriggle  and  rub  against  it 
more  disdainfully;  others,  in  sober  truth,  know 
not  what  to  make  of  it,  swim  round  and  round 
it,  eye  it  on  the  sunny  side,  eye  it  on  the 
shady,  approach  it,  question  it,  shoulder  it,  flap 
it  with  the  tail,  turn  it  over,  look  askance  at  it, 
take  a  pea-shell  or  a  worm  instead  of  it,  and 
plunge  again  their  contented  heads  into  the 
comfortable  mud  ;  after  some  seasons  the  same 
food  will  suit  their  stomachs  better. 

The  Editor  has  seen  all  this,  and  been  an 
actor  in  it,  whether  at  Chantilly  or  Fontaine- 
bleau  is  indifferent  to  the  reader ;  and  it  has 
occurred  to  him  that  Shakspeare  and  Spenser 
were  thrown  among  such  carp,  and  began  to  be 
relished  (the  worst,  of  course,  first)  after  many 
years.  He  is  certain  that  these  two  publica- 
tions can  interest  only  the  antiquary  and  biog- 
rapher ;  enough  if  even  such  find  their  account 
in  them. 


Preface,  203 


TT  happened  by  mere  accident  that  so  obscure 
■'-  a  man  as  Ephraim  Barnett,  with  no  peculiar 
zeal  for  genius,  and  with  no  other  scope  or  in- 
tention than  a  lesson  for  his  descendants,  has 
preserved  an  authentic  memorial  of  the  principal 
event  both  in  the  life  of  Shakspeare  and  of 
Spenser ;  the  one  event  was  very  near  the 
cause  of  terminating  Shakspeare's,  the  other  did 
terminate  Spenser's.  He  accounts  for  his 
knowledge  of  the  facts  naturally  enough,  as 
those  will  readily  admit  who  have  the  patience 
to  read  his  paper  on  the  subject.  It  would 
be  inhumane  in  the  Editor  to  ask  any  of  it  for 
himself,  when  it  is  about  to  undergo  such  an 
exertion. 


ESSEX  AND  SPENSER. 


ESSEX. 

*•  INSTANTLY  on  hearing  of  thy  arrival  from 
Ireland  I  sent  a  message  to  thee,  good  Ed- 
mund, that  I  might  learn  from  one  so  judicious 
and  dispassionate  as  thou  art,  the  real  state  of 
things  in  that  distracted  country,  —  it  having 
pleased  the  queen's  majesty  to  think  of  appoint- 
ing me  her  deputy,  in  order  to  bring  the 
rebellious  to  submission," 

SPENSER. 

"  Wisely  and  well  considered ;  but  more 
worthily  of  her  judgment  than  her  affection. 
May  your  lordship  overcome,  as  you  have 
ever  done,  the  difficulties  and  dangers  you 
foresee." 

ESSEX. 

'*  We  grow  weak  by  striking  at  random  ;  and 
knowing  that  I  must  sLnke,  and  strike  heavily,  I 
would  fain  see  exactly  where  the  stroke  shall 
fall. 


2o6  Conference  between 

"  Some  attribute  to  the  Irish  all  sorts  of 
excesses ;  others  tell  us  that  these  are  old 
stories  ;  that  there  is  not  a  more  inoffensive 
race  of  merry  creatures  under  heaven,  and  that 
their  crimes  are  all  hatched  for  them  here  in 
England,  by  the  incubation  of  printers'  boys, 
and  are  brought  to  market  at  times  of  distressing 
dearth  in  news.  From  all  that  I  myself  have 
seen  of  them,  I  can  only  say  that  the  civilized 
(I  mean  the  richer  and  titled)  are  as  susceptible 
of  heat  as  iron,  and  as  impenetrable  to  light  as 
granite.  The  half-barbarous  are  probably  worse ; 
the  utterly  barbarous  may  be  somewhat  better. 
Like  game-cocks,  they  must  spur  when  they 
meet.  One  fights  because  he  fights  an  English- 
man ;  another  because  the  fellow  he  quarrels 
with  comes  from  a  distant  county  ;  a  third  be- 
cause the  next  parish  is  an  eyesore  to  him,  and 
his  fist-mate  is  from  it.  The  only  thing  in  which 
they  all  agree  as  proper  law  is  the  tooth-for- 
tooth  act.  Luckily  we  have  a  bishop  who  is  a 
native,  and  we  called  him  before  the  queen.  He 
represented  to  her  majesty  that  every  thing  in 
Old  Ireland  tended  to  re-produce  its  kind,  — 
crimes  among  others  ;  and  he  declared,  frankly, 
that  if  an  honest  man  is  murdered,  or  what  is 
dearer  to  an  honest  man,  if  his  honour  is 
wounded  in  the  person  of  his  wife,  it  must  be 


Essex  and  Spenser.  207 

expected  that  he  will  retaliate.  Her  Majesty 
delivered  it  as  her  opinion  that  the  latter  case 
of  vindictiveness  was  more  likely  to  take  effect 
than  the  former.  But  the  bishop  replied  that 
in  his  conscience  he  could  not  answer  for  either 
if  the  man  was  up.  The  dean  of  the  same 
diocese  gave  us  a  more  favorable  report.  Being 
a  justice  of  the  peace,  he  averred  most  solemnly 
that  no  man  ever  had  complained  to  him  of 
murder,  excepting  one  who  had  lost  so  many 
fore-teeth  by  a  cudgel  that  his  deposition  could 
not  be  taken  exactly,  —  added  to  which,  his  head 
was  a  little  clouded  with  drunkenness  ;  further- 
more, that  extremely  few  women  had  adduced 
sufficiently  clear  proofs  of  violence,  excepting 
those  who  were  wilful  and  resisted  with  tooth 
and  nail.  In  all  which  cases  it  was  difficult,  nay 
impossible,  to  ascertain  which  violence  began 
first  and  lasted  longest. 

"There  is  not  a  nation  upon  earth  that  pre- 
tends to  be  so  superlatively  generous  and  high- 
minded  ;  and  there  is  not  one  (I  speak  from 
experience)  so  utterly  base  and  venal.  I  have 
positive  proof  that  the  nobility,  in  a  mass,  are 
agreed  to  sell,  for  a  stipulated  sum,  all  their 
rights  and  privileges,  so  much  per  man ;  and 
the  queen  is  inclined  thereunto.  But  would 
our   parliament  consent    to    pay    money   for   a 


2o8  Conference  between. 

cargo  of  rotten  pilchards  ?  And  would  not  our 
captains  be  readier  to  swamp  than  to  import 
them  ?  The  noisiest  rogues  in  that  kingdom,  if 
not  quieted  by  a  halter,  may  be  quieted  by 
making  them  brief-collectors,  and  by  allowing 
them  first  to  encourage  the  incendiary,  then  to 
denounce  and  hang  him,  and  lastly  to  collect  all 
the  money  they  can,  running  up  and  down  with 
the  whining  ferocity  of  half-starved  hyenas, 
under  pretence  of  repairing  the  damages  their 
exhausted  country  hath  sustained.  Others  ask 
modestly  a  few  thousands  a  year,  and  no  more, 
from  those  whom  they  represent  to  us  as  naked 
and  famished  ;  and  prove  clearly  to  every  dis- 
passionate man  who  hath  a  single  drop  of  free 
blood  in  his  veins  that  at  least  this  pittance 
is  due  to  them  for  abandoning  their  liberal  and 
lucrative  professions,  and  for  endangering  their 
valuable  lives  on  the  tempestuous  seas,  in  order 
that  the  voice  of  Truth  may  sound  for  once 
upon  the  shores  of  England,  and  Humanity  cast 
her  shadow  on  the  council-chamber. 

"  I  gave  a  dinner  to  a  party  of  these  fellows 
a  few  weeks  ago.  I  know  not  how  many 
kings  and  princes  were  amongst  them,  nor  how 
many  poets,  and  prophets,  and  legislators,  and 
sages.  When  they  were  half-drunk,  they 
coaxed  and  threatened  ;  when   they  had    gone 


Essex  and  Spenser.  209 

somewhat  deeper,  they  joked,  and  croaked,  and 
hiccoughed,  and  wept  over  sweet  Ireland  ;  and 
when  they  could  neither  stand  nor  sit  any  longer, 
they  fell  upon  their  knees  and  their  noddles,  and 
swore  that  limbs,  life,  liberty,  Ireland,  and  God 
himself,  were  all  at  the  queen's  service.  It  was 
only  their  holy  religion,  the  religion  of  their 
forefathers —  Here  sobs  interrupted  some, 
howls  others,  execrations  more,  and  the  liquor 
they  had  ingulfed,  the  rest.  I  looked  down  on 
them  with  stupor  and  astonishment,  seeing 
faces,  forms,  dresses,  much  like  ours,  and  recol- 
lecting their  ignorance,  levity,  and  ferocity.  My 
pages  drew  them  gently  by  the  heels  down  the 
steps ;  my  grooms  set  them  upright  (inasmuch 
as  might  be)  on  their  horses  ;  and  the  people  in 
the  streets,  shouting  and  pelting,  sent  forward 
the  beasts  to  their  straw. 

"Various  plans  have  been  laid  before  us  for 
civilising  or  coercing  them.  Among  the  pacific, 
it  was  proposed  to  make  an  offer  to  five-hun- 
dred of  the  richer  Jews  in  the  Hanse-towns 
and  in  Poland,  who  should  be  raised  to  the  dig- 
nity of  the  Irish  peerage,  and  endowed  with  four 
thousand  acres  of  good  forfeited  land,  on  condi- 
tion of  each  paying  two  thousand  pounds,  and  of 
keeping  up  ten  horsemen  and  twenty  foot,  Ger- 
mans or  Poles,  in  readiness  for  service. 
14 


2IO  Conference  between 

'*The  Catholics  bear  no  where  such  ill-will 
toward  Jews  as  toward  Protestants.  Brooks 
make  even  worse  neighbours  than  oceans  do. 

"  I  myself  saw  no  objection  to  the  measure  ; 
but  our  gracious  queen  declared  she  had  an  in- 
superable one  —  they  stank!  We  all  acknowl- 
edged the  strength  of  the  argument,  and  took 
out  our  handkerchiefs.  Lord  Burleigh  almost 
fainted  ;  and  Raleigh  wondered  how  the  Em- 
peror Titus  could  bring  up  his  men  against 
Jerusalem. 

"  '  Ah  1 '  said  he,  looking  reverentially  at 
her  Majesty,  '  the  star  of  Berenice  shone  above 
him  I  and  what  evil  influence  could  that  star 
not  quell  ?  what  malignancy  could  it  not  annihi- 
late ? ' 

"  Hereupon  he  touched  the  earth  with  his 
brow,  until  the  queen  said,  — 

"  '  Sir  Walter  !   lift  me  up  those  laurels.' 

'*  At  which  manifestation  of  princely  good- 
will he  was  advancing  to  kiss  her  Majesty's 
hand,  but  she  waved  it,  and  said,  sharply, — 

"  '  Stand  there,  dog  I ' 

"Now  what  tale  have  you  for  us?" 

SPENSER. 

*'  Interrogate  me,  my  lord,  that  1  may 
answer  each  question  distinctly,  my  mind  being 


Essex  and  Spenser.  211 

in    sad    confusion   at   what    I    have   seen   and 
undergone." 

ESSEX. 

**  Give  me  thy  account  and  opinion  of  these 
very  affairs  as  thou  leftest  them;  for  I  would 
rather  know  one  part  well  than  all  imperfectly; 
and  the  violences  of  which  I  have  heard  within 
the  day  surpass  belief. 

"Why  weepest  thou,  my  gentle  Spenser .> 
Have  the  rebels  sacked  thy  house  ?  " 

SPENSER. 

"They  have  plundered  and  utterly  destroyed 
it." 

ESSEX. 

"  I  grieve  for  thee,  and  will  see  thee  righted." 

SPENSER. 

"  In  this  they  have  little  harmed  me." 

ESSEX. 

"  How  1  I  have  heard  it  reported  that  thy 
grounds  are  fertile  and  thy  mansion  ^  large  and 
pleasant." 

*  It  was  purchased  by  a  victualler  and  banl<er,  the 
father  or  grandfather  of  Lord  Riversdale. 


212  Conference  between 

SPENSER. 

"If  river,  and  lake,  and  meadow-ground, 
and  mountain,  could  render  any  place  the 
abode  of  pleasantness,  pleasant  was  mine,  in- 
deed I 

"  On  the  lovely  banks  of  Mulla  I  found  deep 
contentment.  Under  the  dark  alders  did  I 
muse  and  meditate.  Innocent  hopes  were  my 
gravest  cares,  and  my  playfullest  fancy  was  with 
kindly  wishes.  Ah  1  surely,  of  all  cruelties  the 
worst  is  to  extinguish  our  kindness.  Mine  is 
gone  :  I  love  the  people  and  the  land  no  longer. 
My  lord,  ask  me  not  about  them  ;  I  may  speak 
injuriously.'" 

ESSEX. 

"Think  rather,  then,  of  thy  happier  hours 
and  busier  occupations ;  these  likewise  may 
instruct  me." 

SPENSER. 

"  The  first  seeds  I  sowed  in  the  garden,  ere 
the  old  castle  was  made  habitable  for  my  lovely 
bride,  were  acorns  from  Penshurst.  I  planted 
a  little  oak  before  my  mansion  at  the  birth  of 
each  child.  '  My  sons,'  I  said  to  myself,  '  shall 
often  play  in  the  shade  of  them  when  I  am 
gone,  and  every  year  shall  they  take  the  measure 
of  their  growth,  as  fondly  as  I  take  theirs. 


Essex  and  Spenser.  213 


ESSEX. 

•'  Well,  well ;  but  let  not  this  thought  make 
thee  weep  so  bitterly." 

SPENSER. 

"  Poison  may  ooze  from  beautiful  plants ; 
deadly  grief  from  dearest  reminiscences. 

"  I  must  grieve,  I  must  weep ;  it  seems  the 
law  of  God,  and  the  only  one  that  men  are  not 
disposed  to  contravene.  In  the  performance  of 
this  alone  do  they  effectually  aid  one  another." 

ESSEX. 

*'  Spenser  !  I  wish  I  had  at  hand  any  argu- 
ments or  persuasions  of  force  sufficient  to 
remove  thy  sorrow  ;  but  really  I  am  not  in  the 
habit  of  seeing  men  grieve  at  any  thing  except 
the  loss  of  favour  at  court,  or  of  a  hawk,  or  of  a 
buck-hound.  And  were  I  to  swear  out  my  con- 
dolences to  a  man  of  thy  discernment,  in  the 
same  round,  roll-call  phrases  we  employ  with 
one  another  upon  these  occasions,  I  should  be 
guilty,  not  of  insincerity,  but  of  insolence.  True 
grief  hath  ever  something  sacred  in  it,  and 
when  it  visiteth  a  wise  man  and  a  brave  one,  is 
m.ost  holy, 

•'  Nay,   kiss  not  my  hand  ;    he  whom  God 


214  Conference  between 

smiteth  hath  God  with  him.     In  his  presence 
what  am  I  ? " 

8PENSER. 

"  Never  so  great,  my  lord,  as  at  this  hour, 
when  you  see  aright  who  is  greater.  May  He 
guide  your  counsels,  and  preserve  your  life 
and  glory  1 " 

ESSEX. 

"Where  are  thy  friends?  Are  they  with 
thee  > " 

SPENSER. 

"  Ah,  where  indeed  ?  Generous,  true- 
hearted  Philip  !  where  art  thou  ?  whose  pres- 
ence was  unto  rae  peace  and  safety,  whose 
smile  was  contentment,  and  whose  praise  re- 
nown. My  lord  1  I  cannot  but  think  of  him 
among  still  heavier  losses ;  he  was  my  earliest 
friend,  and  would  have  taught  me  wisdom." 

ESSEX. 

"  Pastoral  poetry,  my  dear  Spenser,  doth  not 
require  tears  and  lamentations.  Dry  thine 
eyes  ;  rebuild  thine  house.  The  queen  and 
council,  I  venture  to  promise  thee,  will  make 
ample  amends  for  every  evil  thou  hast  sus- 
tained. What  I  does  that  enforce  thee  to  wail 
yet  louder  ? " 


Essex  and  Spenser.  215 

SPENSER. 

"  Pardon  me,  bear  with  me,  most  noble 
heart  1  I  have  lost  what  no  council,  no  queen, 
no  Essex  can  restore." 

ESSEX. 

'*  We  will  see  that  1  There  are  other  swords, 
and  other  arms  to  wield  them,  besides  a  Leices- 
ter's and  a  Raleigh's.  Others  can  crush  their 
enemies  and  serve  their  friends." 

SPENSER. 

"  O  my  sweet  child  I  And  of  many  so 
powerful,  many  so  wise  and  so  beneficent,  was 
there  none  to  save  thee  ?     None  !  none  1 " 

ESSEX. 

"  I  now  perceive  that  thou  lamentest  what 
almost  every  father  is  destined  to  lament.  Hap- 
piness must  be  bought,  although  the  payment 
may  be  delayed.  Consider  ;  the  same  calamity 
might  have  befallen  thee  here  in  London. 
Neither  the  houses  of  ambassadors,  nor  the 
palaces  of  kings,  nor  the  altars  of  God  himself, 
are  asylums  against  death.  How  do  I  know 
but  under  this  very  roof  there  may  sleep  some 
latent  calamity,  that  in  an  instant  shall  cover 


2i6  Conference  between 

with  gloom  every  mmate  of  the  house,  and  every 
far  dependent  ? " 

SPENSER. 

"God  avert  it  1 " 

ESSEX. 

"  Every  day,  every  hour  of  the  year,  do  hun- 
dreds mourn  what  thou  mournest." 

SPENSER. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no  I  Calamities  there  are 
around  us  ;  calamities  there  are  all  over  the 
earth  ;  calamities  there  are  in  all  seasons  ;  but 
none  in  any  season,  none  in  any  place,  like 
mine." 

ESSEX. 

"So  say  all  fathers,  so  say  all  husbands. 
Look  at  any  old  mansion-house,  and  let  the  sun 
shine  as  gloriously  as  it  may  on  the  golden 
vanes,  or  the  arms  recently  quartered  over  the 
gateway,  or  the  embayed  window,  and  on  the 
happy  pair  that  haply  is  toying  at  it ;  neverthe- 
less, thou  mayest  say  that  of  a  certainty  the 
same  fabric  hath  seen  much  sorrow  within  its 
chambers,  and  heard  many  wailings  ;  and  each 
time  this  was  the  heaviest  stroke  of  all.  Fune- 
rals have  passed  along  through  the  stout-hearted 


Essex  and  Spenser.  217 

knights  upon  the  wainscot,  and  amidst  the 
laughing  nymphs  upon  the  arras.  Old  servants 
have  shaken  their  heads,  as  if  somebody  had  de- 
ceived them,  when  they  found  that  beauty  and 
nobility  could  perish. 

"  Edmund  I  the  things  that  are  too  true  pass 
by  us  as  if  they  were  not  true  at  all ;  and  when 
they  have  singled  us  out,  then  only  do  they 
strike  us.  Thou  and  I  must  go  too.  Perhaps 
the  next  year  may  blow  us  away  with  its  fallen 
leaves." ^ 

SPENSER. 

**  For  you,  my  lord,  many  years  (I  trust)  are 
waiting;  I  never  shall  see  those  fallen  leaves. 
No  leaf,  no  bud  will  spring  upon  the  earth 
before  I  sink  into  her  breast  for  ever." 

ESSEX. 

"Thou,  who  art  wiser  than  most  men, 
shouidst  bear  with  patience,  equanimity,  and 
courage,  what  is  common  to  all." 

SPENSER. 

"  Enough  I  enough  1  enough  1  Have  all 
men  seen  their  infant  burnt  to  ashes  before 
their  eyes  ? " 

1  It  happened  so. 


2i8  Conference  between 

ESSEX. 

"Gracious  God!  Merciful  Father  1  what 
is  this  >  " 

SPENSER. 

"Burnt  alive  I  burnt  to  ashes  1  burnt  to 
ashes  I  The  flames  dart  their  serpent  tongues 
through  the  nursery-window.  I  cannot  quit 
thee,  my  Elizabeth  1  I  cannot  lay  down  our 
Edmund.  Oh,  these  flames  1  they  persecute, 
they  enthrall  me,  they  curl  round  my  temples, 
they  hiss  upon  my  brain,  they  taunt  me  with 
their  fierce,  foul  voices,  they  carp  at  me,  they 
wither  me,  they  consume  me,  throwing  back  to 
me  a  little  of  life,  to  roll  and  sufl"er  in,  with  their 
fangs  upon  me.  Ask  me,  my  lord,  the  things 
you  wish  to  know  from  me ;  I  may  answer 
them — I  am  now  composed  again.  Command 
me,  my  gracious  lord  1  I  would  yet  serve  you  ; 
soon  I  shall  be  unable.  You  have  stooped  to 
raise  me  up  ;  you  have  borne  with  me  ;  you  have 
pitied  me,  even  like  one  not  powerful ;  you  have 
brought  comfort,  and  will  leave  it  with  me,  — 
for  gratitude   is  comfort. 

"Oh  I  my  memory  stands  all  a  tip-toe  on  one 
burning  point  ;  when  it  drops  from  it,  then  it 
perishes.  Spare  me,  ask  me  nothing ;  let  me 
weep  before  you  in  peace,  —  the  kindest  act  of 
greatness." 


Essex  and  Spenser.  219 

ESSEX. 

**  I  should  rather  have  dared  to  mount  into 
the  midst  of  the  conflagration  than  I  now  dare 
entreat  thee  not  to  weep.  The  tears  that  over- 
flow thy  heart,  my  Spenser,  will  staunch  and 
heal  it  in  their  sacred  stream,  but  not  without 
hope  in  God." 

SPENSER. 

"  My  hope  in  God  is  that  I  may  soon  see 
again  what  he  has  taken  from  me.  Amidst  the 
myriads  of  angels  there  is  not  one  so  beautiful ; 
and  even  he,  if  there  be  any,  who  is  appointed 
my  guardian,  could  never  love  me  so.  Ah  1 
these  are  idle  thoughts,  vain  wanderings,  dis- 
tempered dreams.  If  there  ever  were  guardian 
angels,  he  who  so  wanted  one,  my  helpless 
boy,  would  not  have  left  these  arms  upon  my 
knees." 

ESSEX. 

"  God  help  and  sustain  thee,  too  gentle 
Spenser !  I  never  will  desert  thee.  But  what 
am  I  ?  Great  they  have  called  me  1  Alas,  how 
powerless,  then,  and  infantile  is  greatness  in 
the  presence  of  calamity  I 

"  Come,  give  me  thy  hand  ;  let  us  walk  up 
and  down  the  gallery.  Bravely  done  !  I  will 
envy  no  more  a  Sidney  or  a  Raleigh." 


MEMORANDUM  BY  EPHRAIM  BARNETT. 


WRITTEN    UPON    THE    INNER  COVER. 


OTU DYING  the  benefit  and  advantage  of 
*^  such  as  by  God's  blessing  may  come  after 
me,  and  willing  to  shew  them  the  highways  of 
Providence  from  the  narrow  by-lane  in  the 
which  it  hath  been  his  pleasure  to  station  me, 
and  being  now  advanced  full-nigh  unto  the  close 
and  consummation  of  my  earthly  pilgrimage,  me- 
thinks  I  cannot  do  better,  at  this  juncture,  than 
preserve  the  looser  and  lesser  records  of  those 
who  have  gone  before  me  in  the  same,  with 
higher  heel-piece  to  their  shoe  and  more  pol- 
ished scallop  to  their  beaver.  And  here,  be- 
forehand, let  us  think  gravely  and  religiously  on 
what  the  pagans,  in  their  blindness,  did  call  for- 
tune, making  a  goddess  of  her,  and  saying,  — 

"  One  body  she  lifts  up  so  high 
And  suddenly,  she  makes  him  cry 
And  scream  as  any  wench  might  do 
That  you  should  play  the  rogue  unto. 


Ephraim  Barnett.  221 

And  the  same  Lady  Light  sees  good 
To  drop  another  in  the  mud, 
Against  all  hope  and  likelihood."  ^ 

My  kinsman,  Jacob  Eldridge,  having  been 
taught  by  me,  among  other  useful  things,  to 
write  a  fair  and  laudable  hand,  was  recommended 
and  introduced  by  our  worthy  townsman.  Mas- 
ter Thomas  Greene,  unto  the  Earl  of  Essex,  to 
keep  his  accounts,  and  to  write  down  sundry 
matters  from  his  dictation,  even  letters  occasion- 
ally. For  although  our  nobility,  very  unlike  the 
French,  not  only  can  read  and  write,  but  often 
do,  yet  some  from  generosity,  and  some  from 
dignity,  keep  in  their  employment  what  those 
who  are  illiterate,  and  would  not  appear  so,  call 
an  amanuensis,  thereby  meaning  secretary  or 
scribe.  Now  it  happened  that  our  gracious 
queen's  highness  was  desirous  of  knowing  all 
that  could  be  known  about  the  Rebellion  in  Ire- 
land ;  and  hearing  but  little  truth  from  her 
nobility  in  that  country,  even  the  fathers  in  God 
inclining  more  unto  court  favour  than  will  be 
readily  believed  of  spiritual  lords,  and  moulding 

1  The  editor  has  been  unable  to  discover  who  was  the 
author  of  this  very  free  translation  of  an  Ode  in  Horace.  He 
is  certainly  happy  in  his  amplification  of  the  stridore  acuta. 
May  it  not  be  surmised  that  he  was  some  favourite  scholar 
of  Ephraim  Barnett  ? 


222  Memorandtuu  by 

their  ductile  depositions  on  the  pasteboard  of 
their  temporal  mistress,  until  she  was  angry  at 
seeing  the  lawn-sleeves  so  besmirched  from 
wrist  to  elbow,  she  herself  did  say  unto  the 
Earl  of  Essex,  — 

"  Essex  1  these  fellows  lie  I  I  am  inclined  to 
unfrock  and  scourge  them  sorely  for  their  leas- 
ings.  Of  that  anon.  Find  out,  if  you  can, 
somebody  who  hath  his  wit  and  his  honesty 
about  him  at  the  same  time.  I  know  that  when 
one  of  these  paniers  is  full  the  other  is  apt  to 
be  empty,  and  that  men  walk  crookedly  for 
want  of  balance.  No  matter  —  we  must  search 
and  find.  Persuade — thou  canst  persuade, 
Essex  !  —  say  any  thing,  do  any  thing.  We 
must  talk  gold  and  give  —  iron.  Dost  under- 
stand me  } " 

The  earl  did  kiss  the  Jewels  upon  the  dread 
fingers,  for  only  the  last  joint  of  each  is  visible  ; 
and  surely  no  mortal  was  ever  so  foolhardy  as 
to  take  such  a  monstrous  liberty  as  touching  it, 
except  in  spirit  1  On  the  next  day  there  did 
arrive  many  fugitives  from  Ireland  ;  and  among 
the  rest  was  Master  Edmund  Spenser,  known 
even  in  those  parts  for  his  rich  vein  of  poetry,  in 
which  he  is  declared  by  our  best  judges  to  excel 
the  noblest  of  the  ancients,  and  to  leave  all  the 
moderns  at  his  feet.     Whether   he  notified  his 


Ephraim  Burnett .  223 

arrival  unto  the  earl,  or  whether  fame  brought 
the  notice  thereof  unto  his  lordship,  Jacob 
knoweth  not.  But  early  in  the  morrow  did  the 
earl  send  for  Jacob,  and  say  unto  him,  — 

"  Eldridge  1  thou  must  write  fairly  and  clearly 
out,  and  in  somewhat  large  letters,  and  in  lines 
somewhat  wide  apart,  all  that  thou  hearest  of  the 
conversation  I  shall  hold  with  a  gentleman  from 
Ireland.  Take  this  gilt  and  illumined  vellum, 
and  albeit  the  civet  make  thee  sick  fifty  times, 
write  upon  it  all  that  passes  1  Come  not  out  of 
the  closet  until  the  gentleman  hath  gone  home- 
ward. The  queen  requireth  much  exactness  ; 
and  this  is  equally  a  man  of  genius,  a  man  of 
business,  and  a  man  of  worth.  I  expect  from  him 
not  only  what  is  true,  but  what  is  the  most  im- 
portant and  necessary  to  understand  rightly  and 
completely  ;  and  nobody  in  existence  is  more 
capable  of  giving  me  both  information  and 
advice.  Perhaps  if  he  thought  another  were 
within  hearing  he  would  be  offended  or  over- 
cautious. His  delicacy  and  mine  are  warranted 
safe  and  sound  by  the  observance  of  those  com- 
mands which  I  am  delivering  unto  thee." 

It  happened  that  no  information  was  given 
in  this  conference  relating  to  the  movements  or 
designs  of  the  rebels.  So  that  Master  Jacob 
Eldridge  was  left  possessor  of  the  costly  vellum. 


224  Memorandum  by 

which,  now  Master  Spenser  is  departed  this 
life,  I  keep  as  a  memorial  of  him,  albeit  oftener 
than  once  I  have  taken  pounce  box  and  pen- 
knife in  hand,  in  order  to  make  it  a  fit  and 
proper  vehicle  for  my  own  very  best  writing. 
But  I  pretermitted  it,  finding  that  my  hand  is 
no  longer  the  hand  it  was,  or  rather  that  the 
breed  of  geese  is  very  much  degenerated,  and 
that  their  quills,  like  men's  manners,  are  grown 
softer  and  flaccider.  Where  it  will  end  God 
only  knows  ;  I  shall  not  live  to  see  it. 

Alas,  poor  Jacob  Eldridge  I  he  little  thought 
that  within  twelve  months  his  glorious  master, 
and  the  scarcely  less  glorious  poet,  would  be  no 
more  1  In  the  third  week  of  the  following  year 
was  Master  Edmund  buried  at  the  charges  of 
the  earl ;  and  within  these  few  days  hath  this 
lofty  nobleman  bowed  his  head  under  the  axe  of 
God's  displeasure,  —  such  being  our  gracious 
queen's.  My  kinsman  Jacob  sent  unto  me  by 
the  Alcester  drover,  old  Clem  Fisher,  this, 
among  other  papers,  fearing  the  wrath  of  that 
offended  highness  which  allowed  not  her  own 
sweet  disposition  to  question  or  thwart  the  will 
divine.  Jacob  did  likewise  tell  me  in  his  letter 
that  he  was  sure  I  should  be  happy  to  hear  the 
success  of  "William  Shakspeare,  our  townsman. 
And  in  truth  right  glad  was  I  to  hear  of  it,  being 


Ephraim  Barnett.  225 

a  principal  in  bringing  it  about,  as  those  several 
slieets  will  shew  which  have  the  broken  tile  laid 
upon  them  to  keep  them  down  compactly. 

Jacob's  words  are  these  :  — 

"  Now  I  speak  of  poets,  you  will  be  in  a  maze 
at  hearing  that  our  townsman  hath  written  a 
power  of  matter  for  the  playhouse.  Neither  he 
nor  the  booksellers  think  it  quite  good  enough 
to  print ;  but  I  do  assure  you,  on  the  faith  of  a 
Christian,  it  is  not  bad  ;  and  there  is  rare  fun  in 
the  last  thing  of  his  about  Venus,  where  a  Jew, 
one  Shiloh,  is  choused  out  of  his  money  and  his 
revenge.  However,  the  best  critics  and  the 
greatest  lords  find  fault,  and  very  justly,  in  the 
words,  — 

"  '  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes  ?  hath  not  a  Jew  hands,  organs, 
dimensions,  senses,  affections,  passions  ?  fed  with  the  same 
food,  hurt  with  the  same  weapons,  subject  to  the  same  dis- 
eases, healed  by  the  same  means,  warmed  and  cooled  by 
the  same  winter  and  summer,  as  a  Christian  is  ? ' 

"  Surely,  this  is  very  unchristianlike.  Nay, 
for  supposition  sake,  suppose  it  to  be  true,  was 
it  his  business  to  tell  the  people  so  ?  Was  it 
his  duty  to  ring  the  crier's  bell  and  cry  to  them, 
The  sorry  Jews  are  quite  as  much  men  as 
you  arel  The  impudentest  thing  (excepting 
some  bauderies)  that  ever  came  from  the  stage  ! 
The  church,  luckily,  has  let  him  alone  for  the 

IS 


226  Memorandum  by 

present ;  and  the  queen  winks  upon  it.  The 
best  defence  he  can  make  for  himself  is  that  it 
comes  from  the  mouth  of  a  Jew,  who  says  many 
other  things  as  abominable.  Master  Greene 
may  overrate  him  ;  but  Master  Greene  declares 
that  if  William  goes  on  improving  and  taking 
his  advice,  it  will  be  desperate  hard  work  in 
another  seven  years  to  find  so  many  as  half  a 
dozen  chaps  equal  to  him  within  the  liberties. 
Master  Greene  and  myself  took  him  with  us  to 
see  the  burial  of  Master  Edmund  Spenser  in 
"Westminster  Abbey,  on  the  19th  of  January  last. 
The  halberdmen  pushed  us  back  as  having  no 
business  there.  Master  Greene  told  them  he 
belonged  to  the  queen's  company  of  players. 
William  Shakspeare  could  have  said  the  same, 
but  did  not.  And  I,  fearing  that  Master 
Greene  and  he  might  be  halberded  back  into  the 
crowd,  shewed  the  badge  of  the  Earl  of  Essex. 
Whereupon  did  the  serjeant  ground  his  halberd, 
and  say  unto  me,  — 

"  '  That  badge  commands  admittance  every- 
where ;  your  folk  likewise  may  come  in.' 

"  Master  Greene  was  red-hot  angry,  and  told 
me  he  would  bring  him  before  the  council. 

"William  smiled,  and  Master  Greene  said, — ■ 

'*  '  Why  1  would  not  you,  if  you  were  in  my 
.  place  ? ' 


Ephraim  Barnett.  227 

"  He  replied,  — 

"*  I  am  an  half  Inclined  to  do  worse, — to 
bring  him  before  the  audience  some  spare 
hour.' 

"  At  the  close  of  the  burial-service  all  the 
poets  of  the  age  threw  their  pens  into  the  grave, 
together  with  the  pieces  they  had  composed  in 
praise  or  lamentation  of  the  deceased.  William 
Shakspeare  was  the  only  poet  who  abstained 
from  throwing  in  either  pen  or  poem, — at 
which  no  one  marvelled,  he  being  of  low  estate, 
and  the  others  not  having  yet  taken  him  by  the 
hand.  Yet  many  authors  recognised  him,  not 
indeed  as  author,  but  as  player ;  and  one, 
civiller  than  the  rest,  came  up  unto  him  tri- 
umphantly, his  eyes  sparkling  with  glee  and 
satisfaction,  and  said,  consolatorily, — 

"  '  In  due  time,  my  honest  friend,  you  may 
be  admitted  to  do  as  much  for  one  of  us.' 

"  '  After  such  encouragement,'  replied  our 
townsman,  '  I  am  bound  in  duty  to  give  you 
the  preference,  should  I  indeed  be  worthy.' 

"  '  This  was  the  only  smart  thing  he  uttered 
all  the  remainder  of  the  day;  during  the  whole 
of  it  he  appeared  to  be  half-lost,  I  know  not 
whether  in  melancholy  or  in  meditation,  and 
soon  left  us." 

Here  endeth  all  that  my  kinsman  Jacob  wrote 


228  Memorandum  by 

about  William  Shakspeare,  saving  and  except- 
ing his  excuse  for  having  written  so  much.  The 
rest  of  his  letter  was  on  a  matter  of  wider  and 
weightier  import,  namely,  on  the  price  of 
Cotteswolde  cheese  at  Evesham  fair.  And 
yet,  although  ingenious  men  be  not  among  the 
necessaries  of  life,  there  is  something  in  them 
that  makes  us  curious  in  regard  to  their  goings 
and  doings.  It  were  to  be  wished  that  some  of 
them  had  attempted  to  be  better  accountants ; 
and  others  do  appear  to  have  laid  aside  the 
copybook  full  early  in  the  day.  Nevertheless, 
they  have  their  uses  and  their  merits.  Master 
Eldridge's  letter  is  the  wrapper  of  much  whole- 
some food  for  contemplation.  Although  the 
decease  (within  so  brief  a  period)  of  such  a  poet 
as  Master  Spenser,  and  such  a  patron  as  the 
earl,  be  unto  us  appalling,  we  laud  and  magnify 
the  great  Disposer  of  events,  no  less  for  his 
goodness  in  raising  the  humble  than  for  his 
power  in  extinguishing  the  great.  And  perad- 
venture  ye,  my  heirs  and  descendants,  who 
shall  read  with  due  attention  what  my  pen  now 
writeth,  will  say,  with  the  royal  Psalmist,  that  it 
inditeth  of  a  good  matter,  when  it  sheweth 
unto  you  that,  whereas  it  pleased  the  queen's 
highness  to  send  a  great  lord  before  the  judg- 
ment-seat  of   Heaven,    having    fitted   him   by 


Ephraim  Barnett.  229 

means  of  such  earthly  instruments  as  princes  in 
like  cases  do  usually  employ,  and  deeming  (no 
doubt)  in  her  princely  heart  that  by  such  shrewd 
tonsure  his  head  would  be  best  fitted  for  a  crown 
of  glory,  and  thus  doing  all  that  she  did  out  of 
the  purest  and  most  considerate  love  for  him,  — 
it  likewise  hath  pleased  her  highness  to  use  her 
right  hand  as  freely  as  her  left,  and  to  raise  up 
a  second  burgess  of  our  town  to  be  one  of  her 
company  of  players.  And  ye,  also,  by  industry 
and  loyalty,  may  cheerfully  hope  for  promotion 
in  your  callings,  and  come  up  (some  of  you)  as 
nearly  to  him  in  the  presence  of  royalty,  as  he 
Cometh  up  (far  off,  indeed,  at  present)  to  the 
great  and  wonderful  poet  who  lies  dead  among 
more  spices  than  any  phoenix,  and  more  quills 
than  any  porcupine.  If  this  thought  may  not 
prick  and  incitate  you,  little  is  to  be  hoped  from 
any  gentle  admonition,  or  any  earnest  expostu- 
lation, of 

Your  loving  friend  and  kinsman, 

E.  B. 

ANNO   /ET.   SU^   74,   DOM.    1 599, 

DECEMB.    16; 

GLORIA  DP.   DF.   ET  DSS. 

AMOR  VERSUS  VIRGINEM   REGINAM  ! 

PROTESTANTICE   LOQUOR  ET  HONESTO   SENSU  : 

OBTESTOR  CONSCIENTIAM   MEAM  ! 


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